


Combined Arms: Tankery and AirCom Global Tournament

by FredericusRed



Category: Girls und Panzer
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-28
Updated: 2014-07-28
Packaged: 2018-02-10 19:25:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 20
Words: 83,604
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2037039
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FredericusRed/pseuds/FredericusRed
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Tankery World Championships have come to an end with Oorai taking the title.  Their school is saved, their passion burns, and they're looking forward to the next adventure.</p>
<p>However, while the lassies were covering themselves in glory, another club struggled to stay alive.  The lads of Excalibur Commonwealth Academy's AirCom club will need the help of the Ooarai Tankery Team as both of them join in a world first: The Global Combined Arms: Tankery and AirCom Tourney! (CATAC for short)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Good day and thank you for taking the time to read this story. Regarding this work, there are two items you should be aware of:  
> -Unlike the manga or anime, the School Ships are not exclusively Japanese. The academies are from their respective themed countries. I.e. Pravda is from Russia, Saunders is from USA, etc.  
> -All characters are assumed to be proficient in the English language.
> 
> Thank you.

* * *

 

Beyond the glass barrier the calm, kindly blue sky extended to the farthest horizon.  The maple leaves rustled in the cool breeze whispering secrets to the wind.  Squirrels scurried about with cheeks full of nuts to pester the many birds building nests.  The soft sleepy clouds floated across the sky calling us to the heavens.  The roar of engines grew into a magnificent rumble.  A relic of a glorious age streaked across the sky and rolled triumphantly as if to salute its observers.

 

 

Thwack!  A heavy text slammed against the hard lacquered desk. 

 

“So, what is the answer?” he asked.

 

Hard dull eyes glared at me through rimless glasses.  A serious frown pronounced by sunken cheeks frightened me stiff.  I squirmed in the seat looking for a hint.

 

An old friend raised a hand and mouthed, “Four.”

 

“Four!” I replied with hesitant confidence.

 

The teacher sighed, “So you’re telling me Macbeth sought the three witches because of ‘four’?”

 

“Yes?” I said with a meek smile.

 

A hearty chuckle broke out in the class.  My classmate covered his mouth and tapped his foot on the ground trying to contain the excitement. 

 

_You are an asshole!  An asshole’s asshole!_

 

“Settle down class.  Now, that you’re paying attention let us continue.”

 

The ring of relief came down the hall.  Chairs squeaked, books shut with a delightful thud, and idle chatter drowned everything else.

 

_Saved by the bell._

 

“Read the rest of act four and the first two scenes of act five!”

 

I hastily threw my books into my satchel.  I kicked the chair into place and bolted out of the room.  The halls were filled with students.  The endless wave of burgundy jackets and brown plaid bottoms flowed down the hall toward the doors and stairs with scattered collections frozen on the sides as lockers opened and slammed shut.  I navigated through the flood of people.  Some of the students noticed my presence and patted me on the back and shoulder.  Among the chatter and clamber I could faintly hear applause, and as I continued the applause grew slightly louder and louder.

 

“Congratulations.”

 

“Congrats!”

 

“Well done.”

 

“You’ve earned it.”

 

I kindly smiled, “Fanks.  Fank you.  ‘Ave a good one.  See you late’ah”

 

_I can’t tell if it’s genuine or sarcasm._

 

The outdoors welcomed me with open arms and a refreshing breeze.  The smooth paths protected the perfectly manicured lawn.  The streets were mostly empty save for the multitude of youth crossing to get home.  Parked in front of the campus was one of the club’s assets.  Painted in traditional khaki grey, its massive sleepy bug-eyed headlights, the thick and tall sides and open top; four meters long, two meters wide and three tons of steel, the Universal Carrier proudly stood ready to receive its passengers.  

 

“You jackass!” I grabbed its attendant by the lapels and scuffled, “Four!  The answer was four!  You’re such a dick, Piccadilly.”

 

“Oi!  It’s your fault.” he replied pushing his way out of my lock, “How could you forget we were in literature not math?”

 

I playfully jabbed, “Easily when bofe are boring as watchin’ paint dry.”

 

“Don’t be insulting the paint now.”

 

“If you too are done flirting, let’s get goin’!” hollered my chap in the carrier.

 

“Belle’s got a point.”

 

We piled into the carrier.  Belle revved up the engine and hollered people out of the way.  Piccadilly sat up front while I stood in the rear.  The tracks clanked and clattered against the asphalt.  Tiny stones and pebbles kicked up into the air as we advanced. 

 

I bent over the metal wall, “You know dis fing only gets five miles to the gallon, right?”

 

“Yeah” replied Belle stomping on the gas, “But we’re not footin’ the bill now are we?”

 

“No, but the student council’s gonna be right royally pissed.”

 

“Never stopped us before.  Buckle up!”

 

The carrier jolted forward knocking me back.  We laughed and joked down the road.  Behind us the proud, old campus disappeared behind the apartments and shops.  The tall clock tower with the shining white face and black spade hands, the tall steeple and masterful brown stone began to shrink.  Due to the striking resemblance to Westminster, we affectionately referred to the old clock as Little Ben.  Ol’ Little Ben greeted us every morning and frowned at us every afternoon.  Cars honked at us, some out of anger, and some out of encouragement.  We’d wave them off and they’d scoot around the right to pass.

 

Our reliable relic ground to a halt beside a long field, roughly two kilometers long.  White lines were painted across the grass.  To the west four massive hangars loomed over the field.  The olive green walls protected by the curved dull grey metal roof.  I shaded my eyes and peered into the distance.  Across the field faintly were small shapes of orange tending to our many vehicles.  Directly beside us, on the eastern part of the field, were three buildings roughly all the same size.  The buildings were just like suburban homes but slightly longer by a few meters.  The walls were painted in school burgundy and the windows were trimmed in ivory white.  Above the doors were signs telling you exactly what it was for.  One was completely empty save for a few tables and a fully stocked kitchen.  The second building held several shelves of books of every subject, hardbacks, paperbacks, leatherbacks, all sorts of books.  One could easily get lost in all the words and stories and knowledge contained deep within the countless pages.  I spied a couple students twirling pencils as they poured over the week’s assignments and readings. 

 

We jumped out and headed toward the third building.  Inside was a boisterous, jolly time.  Billiard balls clacked against each other and bounced of the velvet sides before finding home in one of the pockets.  Darts zipped through the air and impaled the helpless board.  A pair faced across the foosball table, another across the chess board.  Tucked away in the corners were groups of people lounging in their seats shooting the breeze.

 

“Congratulations!” the students said at once as I entered the room.

 

“Fank you” I replied, “Get yourselves ready, practice starts in half an hour.”

 

A stack of papers and letters were dropped into my hand.

 

“What are these for?” I asked flipping through the pages.

 

“Letters from the student council, lists of items needing your approval, logs, maintenance records, school paper…”

 

“Oh so all the fun stuff then.  And my tea?”

 

“Darjeeling.”

 

“You should know my order by now: Earl Grey, hot.  But I guess a change is fine.  Once in a while.”

 

“Umm, no, I meant Darjeeling is here.”

 

I glared from the pages and nearly dropped my tea, “Where and why?”

 

“In your office, she didn’t say.  Sorry captain.”

 

I sighed, “Well, she’s ‘ere and dat’s dat.  Go on, get yourself ready, Lucky.”

 

“One more thing,” Lucky said, “Some freshman have signed up and arrived.  They’re waiting over in the corner there.”

 

Two bright eyed students were chatting away in the corner.  Their uniforms were freshly pressed and cleaned.  From their smiling faces I could see they were very excited to join the team.

 

“Keep them here, and call in Piccadilly, Belle, and Regal.  Tell the mechanical club –“

 

“Don’t worry; I know exactly what to do.”

 

“Thanks Lucky.”

 

I took a deep breath and opened the door to my office.  The bright sun poured in through the window between the curtains to light up my mahogany desk.  My jacket hung on the rack beneath my fedora.  Papers were strewn haphazardly on the desk along with pencils, pens, paper clips and the like.  Behind the desk was my faithful seat where I would rock back and forth pretending to work until the last minute. 

 

And there she was.  Darjeeling sat in front of the desk sipping a cup of tea.  Her calm blue eyes were like the endless sky on a spring day.  The blonde braided hair reminded me of the golden waves of gain blowing in the autumn breeze.  The St. Gloriana crest was proudly displayed on the navy blue sweater.  Her prim and proper black tie matched the tight leggings.  She crossed her legs in her blue pleated skirt and moved her foot like a metronome to a song only she could hear.

 

“Good afternoon, Earl Grey” she said with a cool calmness.

 

“Don’t call me dat” I said dropping the mass of papers on the desk.   

 

“Oh?” she said with a hint of surprise in her soft voice, “Then what name shall I call you?”

 

“Anyfing but that.”

 

“Very well, Sugar” she said with a sly smile.

 

“Please use the full name.  It sounds weird if you don’t.”

 

“You’re so particular” she giggled, “Anyway, I was wondering if you’d had a chance to read the sports pages.”

 

“I was about to, but I ‘ave a guest to entertain.”

 

Darjeeling gracefully turned the pages of the school paper.  I quickly glanced over the football scores as she turned to the Tankery World Championship.  She folded out the page. I quickly glossed over it with disinterest.  A large picture of a hodgepodge of tanks took up the canvas.  The crews wrapped arms around each other’s shoulders and had smiles so large an alligator would be jealous.  In the centre was their commander, I assume, holding the great trophy high into the air.  Beneath the picture was a headline in the largest font I’ve ever seen:

 

Nishizumi Triumphs!  Greatest Upset in the History of Tankery!

 

“ ‘ow is this news?  Ma’o wins it every year” I said refolding the page, “O’ course I thought she’d use a better selection of tanks.”

 

“Maho didn’t win” said Darjeeling taking another sip, “It was her younger sister, Miho.  She’s quite something.  She led the amateur Ooarai team through the championship, defeating Saunders, Anzio, Pravda, and Maho, to win it all and save her school.  And to think she wanted to abandon tankery all together.”

 

“Quite the girl” I said with disinterest, “How did St. Gloriana do this year?”

 

“Sadly we didn’t make it past the first round.  Something I believe we have in common.”

 

“Indeed we do” I said taking a gulp of my tea, “Is this why you’re here?  So we can wallow in the pity each other’s failure?”

 

“Of course not.  I’m here to congratulate you on your promotion, _Captain_ Walker.  And to have a cup of your delicious tea.”

 

“If I didn’t know bet’er, I’d say you _only_ come for the tea.  Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a practice to run” I said pulling my jacket from the rack.

 

“Of course.” She replied courteously, “I’ve left a basket of biscuits in your lounge, I hope you enjoy them.  Earl Grey –“

 

“Don’t call me that!”

 

Darjeeling took a sip and cleared her throat, “Earl Grey says ‘hello’ and wishes you clear skies, Sugar’s Blues.”

 

“Well tell her thanks” I said opening the door.

 

“No wishes for her?”

 

I thought for a moment, “Not really, no.”

 

“Oh, Sugar” Darjeeling sighed.

 

I poked my head back into the office, “I heard that.”

 

Six people remained in the lounge when I returned.  Two were the new chumps, their fists clenched with eager excitement.  With them were three of my most trusted friends.

 

Piccadilly kept his hands in the deep pockets of his leather jacket.  He was a man of average height with brown hair, and brown eyes.  I learned long ago to stop pestering him about the shaggy state and long length of his hair.  His trousers were brown, his loafers were brown, and his socks were brown.  If he didn’t move we could easily mistake him for a mannequin.  The jacket was well worn from years of use.  Stitched on the back was his personal patch: a blonde woman in a short violet dress that ended just past the thighs.  Two long luscious black nylons covered her slender legs to disappear into a pair of tall black high heels.  Her short skirt and long blonde hair blew in the wind as she stood in the spotlight between two bright yellow words: Piccadilly Lilly.

 

Belle was merrily talking with the freshmen while holding a tall glass in his hand.  Taller than most men it was a surprise to find he could squeeze into the cockpit.  His short blonde hair fancied itself to style as if it were constantly being blown to the side by a breeze.  I’m almost certain his hair is permanently fixed that way and it’s not the large amount of product he uses to get that effect.  His eyes were a dark blue like the ocean deep.  His personal patch was a blonde woman whose long blond hair was fashioned into a French twist.  She was dressed in a scarlet leotard with a deep V exposing much of the back.  With her black strap heels she leaned against an imaginary wall as she idly chatted on the phone.  Beside her in curving orange letters was her name: Memphis Belle.

 

Then there was Regal, a quiet lad with proper brown hair and hazel eyes.  He kindly smiled as the freshmen talked at length with the other two.  Occasionally he throw in a few words, nothing more than what was needed and always kindly and politely.  Regal Seagull was proudly sewn onto the back of his jacket.  Beside the black cursive words sat a gorgeous woman dressed in naval uniform.  The grey navy blue jacket covered a white shirt and black neck tie.  The skirt ended high enough to reveal a small length of suspenders holding up her stockings.  Her golden buttons and cufflinks perfectly matched the medallion on her white cap.  Her shoulder length oaken hair blew in the sea breeze.  The sweet girl smirked at the seagull coming to perch on her hand.  Humorously, the seagull, with its wings outstretched, sported a pilots cap and a grey aviators scarf.          

            

Decorating the shoulders of everyone’s jackets were our uniform patches.  The right shoulder displayed our school crest: the thistle, shamrock, and rose entwined around Excalibur and superimposed on a maple leaf.  On the left shoulder was our squadron patch: the majestic white atop his steed.

 

“Attention!” said a freshman.

 

The lads snapped stiff.  Eyes fixed forward, their smiles wiped away.  They raised their hands in salute with the palm facing outward.  The old breed chuckled at the rookies.  Lilly and the others continued seating in seats or leaning against walls and furniture.  I walked up and down the line of freshman, eyeing each one like I was examining a piece of art.

 

“Name?” I asked.

 

“Ashley Waters” he replied. 

 

He was a red haired lad with a very freckled face.  His hair was short and greasy and very messy as if he just woke up and bolted out the door.  The lad had green eyes and a pointed nose. 

 

_I wonder if he’ll be able to reach the pedals._

 

“Nolan Coventry”

 

Nolan was a plain lad.  He was of average height, average build, and average looks.  What drew your attention to him what his white hair colour.  A few stray whiskers poked out of his lip and chin.

 

_How old is this guy?_

 

I folded my hands behind my back and stood tall, looking at the recruits down my nose, “Tell me, do you have the courage and fortitude to follow orders and stay true in the face of the enemy and almost certain death?”

Ashley’s face turned paler at the mention of death.  His eyes darted around nervously as he struggled to find an answer.

 

“Y-y-yes.”

 

I shoved my face in his, “Yes, what?”

 

“Y-y-yes captain!”

 

“And you?”

 

“Absolutely. 

 

Belle chuckled, “C’mon Cap.  You’re being too hard on the lad.”

 

“Relax Regal” said Piccadilly, “We all had to go through these shenanigans, even Sugar’s Blues.”

 

“It’s tradition” added  Regal.

 

“I’ll be the best damn pilot you’ve got and take us out of your five year losing streak” said Nolan folding his hands behind him.

 

The pilots rose from their relaxed position and stood straight up.  Whatever expression they had was replaced with serious, directed, insult.

 

“Stand at attention!” shouted Belle.

 

“You were not given permission to stand at ease!” yelled Piccadilly.

 

“Eyes up!  Arms straight!” ordered Regal.

 

I raised my hand and the room became quiet, “So you’re going to be the one to take us out of the slump are you?  Well den, it looks like we’re saved lads.  Tell me how you doing to do it?  How are you going to be our best ace?”

 

“Give me any plane and I’ll fly circles around them.  I’ll climb above the clouds and drop on them like a hawk.  I’ll maneuver through the winds and turn through the skies so they’ll never get behind me.  I’ll dive, climb –“

 

“Oh you’ll do all that, eh?” I said, “You must have flown a helluva lot.  ‘ow many ‘ours have you logged in Spits?”

 

“Two.”

 

“Just two?  You must prefer Tiffies then.  Go on, how many hours?”

 

“None.”

 

“None.  Then you must be a Hurricane ace.  C’mon how many hours?”

 

“Five.”

 

“Hey Belle, how many you log in Spits?”

 

Belle rubbed his chin, “Something around fifty.”

 

“Lilly?”

 

“I estimate around seventy.”

 

“Regal.”

 

“The logs will show.”

 

“Hazard a guess.”

 

“Ten in Spits.  Forty in Typhoons.”

 

 Nolan’s face was stiff and cold but I could see right through his bravado.  After the little show of strength, our little group went on our way.  Regal and Belle were tasked to carry out the regular training session with the lads.  For the veterans, training usually entails a full mock dogfight rather than formation flying.  Naturally they would go over the basics and practice marksmanship and ground attack but they’ve logged so many hours that it has become instinct.  Piccadilly and I would spend the day with the rookies in a combination of class instruction and actual flight.

 

“Today we’re flying Hurricanes.  When flying this famous aircraft there are something’s you need to remember….”

 

“Keep an eye on your speed and your IAS.  Just because you’re going 500 kilometers per hour doesn’t mean you can turn on a dime.  That said if you’re IAS gets too high, you’re going to lock up and if you try something funny your wings might just snap off” warned Piccadilly.   

 

“Alright” I continued holding two model wooden planes, “We’re going through some single plane air combat maneuvers.  First thing we’re going to do is the Immelmann and the Immelmann turn.  The first will gain you altitude and change your direction; the second will tighten your turn at low speeds.”

 

Piccadilly and I traded off throughout the lecture.  Ashley scribbled down notes and asked every question imaginable.  Nolan paid attention, at least I thought he was, but didn’t say a word.  The lecture covered every topic from takeoff and landing, to formation flying, and basic dogfighting. 

 

Ashley nervously raised his hand, “What about safety?”

 

“I’m guessing you mean when we’re in matches.”

 

Ashley nodded.

 

“Well, the best protection is you first and foremost.  The regulations have lots of safety mechanisms and our planes are built in such a way that bullets won’t punch through, but collisions can happen.  As a rule of thumb, if you think you can’t do it, don’t!  Try a different tactic.”

 

“How are we protected from the rounds though?” asked Ashley.

 

“Did they get rid of the intro program?” asked Piccadilly pressing his fingers against his eyes.

 

“We took Aviation 101” said Nolan.

 

“No introduction to fighters?”

 

“No.”

 

“Bloody brilliant.”

 

“All planes use practice rounds similar to what they had during the Second World War.  They don’t do much damage but they make a lot of sparks when they hit.  Of course they’ve been modified with special properties to tell the onboard scoring computer what ‘type’ of round hit to assess damage.  Our planes are coated with a special compound that prevents actual structural damage” I explained, “As you take damage the computer starts to lock up certain functions to simulate actual circumstances.  Once the plane takes enough punishment the plane will release a stream of black smoke.  The plane will unlock and you’ll have control to head back to base.  Of course if you think you’re already taken enough punishment, hit the white button in the cockpit and you’ll spew white smoke signalling other players that you’re withdrawing from the match.”

 

“What coward would dare retreat?” asked Nolan with a challenging tone.

 

“It’s quite smart in some cases.  Trailing white only gives the other team a single point rather than full points.”

 

“Pop quiz!” said Piccadilly, “How many points is each plane worth?”

 

Ashley snapped to attention, “Two points for regular pilots, five for wing leaders, and seven for the squadron leader.  Victory is guaranteed regardless of score if the enemy is completely eliminated.”

 

_Really?  You know the scoring system but nothing about safety?_

 

“Well done” said Piccadilly, “You win a cookie.”

 

“We can still shoot the retreating plane as well” added Nolan with arms crossed.

 

“Yes” I glared at Nolan, “But that violates Gentleman’s Rules.”

 

After the lecture we headed out toward the runway.  Four Hurricanes rested on blocks while members of the mechanical club finished refueling and loading ammunition.  The fuselage was painted in famous colours to remind us of its glory.  The dark green and brown camouflage proudly commemorated the Battle of Britain and its fame as a bomber hunter and dogfighter.  On the tail were our school colours in vertical stripes.  In the center of its body and on its elliptical wings our school crest was proudly displayed.  The cockpit’s canopy of glass resembled a green house, luckily the weather was mild and unlike flowers we would be perfectly comfortable as we flew.  Beneath the canopy and on the metal was a section where the pain had been redone several times over. 

 

I tossed the rookies their emergency equipment: parachute, life preserver, torch, and whistle.  To be absolutely sure, Piccadilly and I went over the instruments with them in great detail.  When they hopped in we asked them to fiddle with the controls to get a quick feel of the plane.  Once we were satisfied we gave the signal.

 

The ignition fired and the great rumble of power coursed through the planes.  The mechanical team pulled the blocks away and waved.  I returned the signal and slowly removed the brake and opened the throttle.  The fighter slowly rolled forward pushing into a great sprint.  The wind rushed over the wings trying to push the plane into the sky.  I slammed the canopy shut and fixed the pilot’s cap.  With a mighty roar of the engine I pulled on the controls.  The fighter replied vigorously as it climbed high into the air.  Piccadilly Lilly and the others followed me into the wild blue yonder. 

 

“Alright lads we’re going in and above the cloud cover.  Keep heading straight up, don’t try any maneuvers or you might collide.  Alright ascend thirty degrees.”

 

We disappeared into the white fluff.  I peered left and right to be sure that nothing was going wrong.  The cloud embraced the fighter like a gentle goddess, but it was like peering through pea soup at midnight.  The cloud broke and the afternoon sun restored my sense of direction.

 

“All wings report in.”

 

“Piccadilly Lilly standing by, at your seven.”

 

“Trainee Ashley standing by, at Lilly’s seven.”

 

“Trainee Nolan standing by, at your five.”

 

“Roger.  Okay lads let’s get started.”

 

We spent the time pushing the Hurricane to its limits.  I forced them to weave and roll and dive and climb and turn.  They strained against the forces with all their might exhausting their stamina.  Cries of “I can’t see, I can’t see” crackled through the radio.  Piccadilly calmly instructed them through the frightening experience.  The Hurricanes levelled out and proceeded straight through the air.  Heavy breaths and panicked gasps filled the radio but subsided in time.  Simple training exercises were used such as follow the leader to test their skills and capacity to learn.

 

“Okay boys” I said over the wireless, “We’re going to have a mock dogfight.  You boys are going to pass each other three times.  After the third pass the fight will start.  Gentleman’s Rules, and don’t try anything stupid.  Piccadilly and I will be above you watching.”

 

We ascended two hundred meters above the fight.  With an order the rookies began their fight.  On the third pass, Nolan began to climb forcing us to go higher.  Ashley slowly began to ascend using a wide circle to keep beneath Nolan.  As he lost speed, Nolan jerked the rudder into a sloppy Immelmann.  As Nolan dove Ashley climbed and avoided the stream of tracers that fell like a waterfall.  I turned looked at Piccadilly and held up a series of numbers with my fingers.     

 

“Piccadilly Lilly to Sugar’s Blues.  Piccadilly Lilly to Sugar’s Blues.”

 

“Receiving, Piccadilly Lilly” I said, “What do you think of these guys.”

 

“We’re scraping the bottom of the barrel, mate.  Well, we get what we earn, but damn.  Less than ten hours in planes and they signed up.  We should really put impose an experience limit again.”

 

“We do that and we won’t get anyone anymore.”

 

“Well look at that, Ashley’s trailing black.”

 

I switched back to the other frequency, “Reset, go again.”

 

“They’re going again?”

 

“We’re not done discussing” I said, “What do you think of Ashley.”

 

“He’s an average pilot at best.  Damn quick learner though and eager.  You?”

 

“Agreed, but he hesitates.  Look, Nolan’s rolling and weaving but he’s slow to react.  He’s got the target’s tail but he can’t figure out how to get the angle.  There.  He wants to maneuver but it’s too late for the tactic.”

 

“We can force the habit out.” 

 

“What about Nolan?”

 

“Ripe bastard.  He’s overly aggressive and overconfident.  Bloody hell.  Did you see that?  If he tries that in a full fight he’ll get knocked out in two seconds flat.  Did he pay attention at all during the class?”

 

“Clearly he didn’t.  I agree but we can’t afford to cut him but at least he’s committed.  We’ll have to keep on training him.  More hours in Hurricanes will fix his poor skills and some practice with the old breed will give him some much needed experience.”

 

“How do we fix his attitude?  In a match we can’t have glory hogs screwing everyone over.”

 

“Not much we can do right now.  We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it.  In the meantime…”

 

I pulled of my mask and smirked at Lilly.  I signalled down toward the fight then pumped my fist several times rapidly.  Lilly smiled back devilishly and nodded.   I counted down, three, two, one.

 

We pushed our fighters into a dive and shouted in the radio, “Attack-a-tack-a-tack-a-tack-a-tack!”

 

Nolan and Ashley panicked forcing the fighters into a straight flight path.  Piccadilly and I kept shouting in the radio.  At a hundred and fifty meters we unleashed a torrent or tracer fire that rattled and sparked against their wings.  Within seconds the rookie fighters were trailing black smoke and flying level. 

 

“Golly sir,” said Ashley catching his breath, “I thought you two might try something like that.”

 

“Don’t think act, Ashley!” said Piccadilly, “Split seconds spent thinking about the fight gives the bandit enough time to shoot you down.  And don’t fly in a straight line.”

 

“Yes sir!”

 

“That wasn’t fair!” complained Nolan, “You had the altitude advantage and attacked us while we were fighting!  Take me one on one and I’ll show you!”

 

I scoffed, “If you think the enemy is going to fight you on a level playing field in match you’re going to be pissed all the time.  They’re not going to wait for you to finish a little duel or give you a chance to catch your breath.  Consider yourself lucky, Piccadilly and I let you know we were coming.  As for your challenge…”

 

“Captain, I’m sitting on a quarter tank for fuel here” said Piccadilly.

 

“Roger that” I replied, “Form up lads, we’re heading for the hangars.”

 

“An internal carrier landing?  We’ve never done that before.”

 

“What?  No, we’re landing on the school ship’s airfield then rolling these into the hangar for the mechanical club to maintain.”

 

We descended through the clouds with the setting sun at our backs.  Spitfires and Typhoons lined the side of the air field and being towed into the hangars.  We circled over the field waiting for the go ahead to begin landing.  I could see the rest of the team filling out the log book on the field before filing into the mess hall for a quick meal.

 

“Control tower to Sugar’s Blues, Control tower to Sugar’s Blues, come in Sugar’s Blues.”

 

“Roger Relay, Sugar’s Blues receiving.”

 

“You are clear to land now.  Use lane two and proceed to taxi into the hangar.  Mechanical club has prepared the path with pylons.”

 

“Roger that” I replied, “You heard the word lads.  We’re clear for landing.  Ashley you’re up first, then Nolan.  Piccadilly and I will supervise from here.  If we start barking at you listen and do it!”

 

One by one the Hurricanes landed.  The flaps extended, our wheels touched the ground and hopped like an excited rabbit as we kept our noses up.  The throttle closed to one-third and under the tender guidance of the rudder the fighter returned safe and sound into the hangar.  The engine sputtered to a halt and the canopies flung open.  The mechanical team quickly threw wooden blocks under the wheels and began a checklist of repairs for each plane.  The rounds may not be able to punch through the coating and armour but they do make a nice set of dimples and dents. 

 

The rookies were both a little shaken by the hard day and our surprise attack on them.  Despite the defeat, Ashley took it in stride and began asking a whole string of questions about the Hawker Hurricane.  Nolan was another case; he was livid.  Throughout the session he proved to be Ashley’s better and scored every single victory, but when I shot him down though he took it as a personal insult.  He didn’t say a single word as we walked to the lounge. 

 

Inside the rest of the squad was reviewing the camera footage from their skirmish.  The gun camera followed a Spitfire as it weaved to evade the attacker.  The attacker was very calm pushing only minor adjustments in its course.  The distance closed rapidly and at 300 meters the attacker released a flurry of cannon rounds.  In the last second the Spitfire flipped over and dove toward the ground, the attacker flipped and furiously perused.  As the fighters dove, the Spitfire turned hard right.  The plane turned on a dime, the attacker frustratingly tried to copy but he was going too fast and the plane was too heavy.  The attacker continued to dive while trying to force the plane into a climb.  The plane slowly pulled its nose up, but it was far too late.  In the final seconds a stream of machine gun and cannon rained from above and the footage stopped.

 

“And down goes Checkmate Cathie!” said a pilot.

 

“You won’t get lucky next time, Regal” replied Checkmate.

 

“I didn’t get Lucky, Check” said Regal with a smirk, “I got you.”

 

“Alright, alright settle down” said Memphis, “Checkmate, what the hell were you thinking?”

 

“I had the advantage.  I had altitude, speed, and better armament.  I could drop down on the Spitfire and score an easy one.”

 

“But you got forced into a turn fight” said another pilot with a big grin, “We’re energy fighters.  What in the world made you think you could out turn the Spits?””

 

“Shut up Smilin’ Susie.  You got knocked out as soon as the fight began.”

 

“Because my wingman decided to turn fight a Spitfire!”

 

“I wouldn’t have to take on Regal if you actually hit something on the first pass.”

 

“Keep talkin’ like that and I’ll know yer lights out you gobshite” said Susie cracking his knuckles.

 

“Settle down!  Susie makes a point, don’t abandon your wingman for a cheap trick.  Remember your basics, Check!  Also if you’re going to engage a fighter with a better turn use your ACM.  Fighting is more than just getting above, on his tail, and unloading a couple hundred rounds.  It’s about energy and teamwork!  Get it?”

 

“Got it” replied Checkmate.

    

“As for you Regal, good work.  You really played to your Spitfire’s strengths.”

 

“Thanks Memphis.”

 

“Squad dismissed, have a good day.”

 

The pilots stood up and carried their seats to where they belonged before returning to their recreational activities.  Again, billiard balls clattered against each other, chess pieces scurried across the board, and darts flew home toward the velvet board.  On a lonely table tucked away in the corner sat a basket of cold biscuits with a little card saying, “Congratulations.”

 

“White Knights!” I cheered.

 

“White Knights!”  The room replied.

 

“Gents, I’d like to introduce you to two of our newest pilots: Ashley Waters, and Nolan Coventry.”

 

“Good day” said Nolan bluntly.

 

“Hello everyone, nice to meet you” said Ashley with a nervous wave and smile.

 

“You’ve got a funny way of talking, Ashley” said Checkmate leaning back in the chair.

 

“Well, I am from Brooklyn.”

 

“Hey Memphis, we’ve got another yank” said Checkmate, “Nice to meet you.  They call me Checkmate Cathie, I’m from Czech Republic.  Peacock Paulie over there is from Poland.  Over there is the Scot, Smilin’ Susie”

 

“Hello” said Paulie with a two finger salute.

 

“How’re ya doin’ ya silly gits?” said Susie as he pocketed the six ball.

 

I glanced around the room, “Where the bomber lads?”

 

“Practicing” said Regal moving the black bishop, “One more run said Melody.  Should be returning soon.”

 

“Well, we’re introduce you to them soon enough.”

 

“And the fellow on the radio?” asked Ashley.

 

“Who?  Relay?” asked Piccadilly, “He’s up in the control tower.  You’ll meet him after the bomber lands.”

 

“Well, enjoy yourselves lads.  If I don’t see you later, I hope you have a good one” I said withdrawing to my office.

 

“You’re not going to break a rack or two cap?” asked Lucky as he struck the cue ball.

 

“Have you seen my desk?”

 

Lucky smirked, “Never stopped you before.”

 

“The student council might intervene” said Peackock.

 

“We’ll give ‘em a right thrashing if they do” said Susie lining up another shot.

 

“Then you get expelled” said Peacock.

 

“Have good day lads.  Oh, and enjoy the biscuits.”

 

“We would if they were any good.”

 

I hung my jacket on the rack and leaned back in my seat.  For a few moments I pushed the papers around then stacked them into a thick pile.  I scooped the paper clips into a drawer and pushed the pens and pencils aside.

 

“Congratulations Sugar’s Blues…  Congratulations Captain Walker…  Squadron Leader, below is a list of items needed for each plane and attached is the appropriate invoice for your approval…  Budget for the current year… Expenses from the previous month…  Sugar’s Blues, the mechanical club is pleased to say that we’ve completed the repairs and restoration of S24-777, would you like anything else done… From the Department of Naval Studies, we have received your itinerary and have set the necessary courses to enter port on the days needed, furthermore…  Attention Captain Walker, the student council is appalled at your recent expenses regarding the Universal Carrier…”  I raised my head from the letters and gazed at the back of my leather jacket, “Well it looks like you and I will be spending a lot more time in this office.”

 

Stitched on the back of my jacket and looking back at me was a tall, fair woman with long, luscious, wavy red hair that covered her bare, supple breasts.  Her green eyes stared off into the distance as she sat comfortably and a smooth, white stone by the sea and leaned on her left arm.  Her left foot rested on the stone on the rock while her right foot touched the warm yellow sand.  The short flowing, emerald green skirt matched her high heels perfectly.  She ran her right hand through her red hair and beside her in white and blue letters was her name:  Sugar’s Blues.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

Pages ruffled against my face as chirping birds annoyingly sang their songs.  A pencil rested beneath my finger like a smoldering cigarette.  I turned my head from side to side trying to find a comfortable position with marginal success.  The orange sun beamed through the windows tickling my eyes.  My eyes lazily cracked open to the pages of _Macbeth_. 

 

_Ugh… I’ll be reading this against tomorrow too._

 

The ringing of the bells shrieked through the air accompanied by the deep bellowing roar of an engine.

 

“I’m awake!  I’m awake!” I glanced at my watch, “Are you kidding me!  Crap!  Crap!  Crap!  I’m late!  I’m late, for a very important date!”

 

I sprinted out and slammed the door behind me.  My heart pounded as I ran from the air field and jumped into the carrier.  The engine revved and the tracks clanked on the streets.  I tried to pass cars as I lumbered down the street and turning into back alleys for shortcuts when I could.

 

_Five miles per gallon and a top speed of 48 kilometers per hour.  Great._

 

To the ire of the student council I drove the tracked vehicle over the grass and paths and parked right in front of the main doors.  The doors flung open and I bolted down the halls.  The few students on spare leaped out of my path as I sprinted toward the classroom.

 

“What’s the rush, Walker?”

 

“I’m late! I’m late for a very important date!”

 

“No running in the halls, Walker!  You might break something!”

 

“If I do send me the bill!”

 

I burst through the classroom door, ran around the desks and slid into my seat by the window.  I rapidly tossed my books on the desk, scribbled the subject and date on a page, all while catching my breath.  The entire class stared at me as I hastily prepared.

 

“Welcome to class Mr. Walker.  You’re just in time for the last fifteen minutes of the lecture of Romeo and Juliet” said the teacher as he scrawled on the blackboard.

 

“Romeo and Juliet?  I thought we were still on Macbeth?  I said rummaging through my book bag for the text.

 

“Ah, so you were paying attention” said the teacher as he finished writing ‘Act 4 – Scene 3, Macbeth, “I’m willing to let your tardiness slide this time as you are busy preparing for the coming tournament.”

 

“Yes…” I said, “I was preparing for the tournament.”

 

A crumpled ball of paper bounced of my head.  Piccadilly looked at me inquisitively while mouthing, ‘what tourney?’  I shrugged and shook my head and silently replied with, ‘I have no idea’.  In its own time the bell announced the end of class.  As with every day we filed out the room and into a sea of burgundy. 

 

“Hey mate” said Piccadilly, “What was all that about a tournament?”

 

“I have no idea, but I’ll take an excuse to be late.”

 

“Lucky break” said Piccadilly, “Well, I gotta head off to sciences.  What class you headed to?”

 

“I’ve got a spare” I replied, “If you need me I’ll be in the library staring at the endless texts of lit’rature.”

 

“Alright, I’ll see you at practice then.”

 

“See you then.”

 

“Captain Walker!” shouted a distant voice.

 

A pair of twins walked toward me as the sea of burgundy parted to let them pass.  They had short brown prim and proper combed hair, with only difference between the two was its part.  One parted on the left, the other on the right.  Blue eyes met my brown and we just stared at they approached.  The pockets were filled with handkerchiefs and folded into a perfect triangle that stood on its corner.  Like their hair there was only a minor difference between the two.  The golden kerchiefs had a thin silver trim along the edge, the lad on the left had the triangle pointed toward his heart, and the other lad had it toward his arm.  Both of them only came up to my chest.

 

“Look about the parking this morning I was in a rush, mate” I said fussing with my short black hair.

 

“You will address us properly” said the first, “And what parking?”

 

“Umm… Nothing important.  So, how are you President Billy?”

 

“I’m Willy you twit!” said the lad with the right part and kerchief pointed to the heart, “He’s Billy.”

 

“Thanks for clearing that up, VP Willy” I said patting him on the shoulder, “Anyway, what do you want?”

 

“We wanted to ask about your preparations for the upcoming tournament” said Billy stabbing his fork into a small bowl of jellied eels, “After the past five years we want to be sure the squadron is at its best.  Your squadron represents the entire school ship you know.”

 

“Yeah, I know” I said, “And what tournament?  This is the second time I’ve heard of it and I know nothing!”

 

“Didn’t you receive the letter?”

 

I shook my head.

 

“Willy?” glared Billy an eel hanging from his lips.

 

“Ah, I must have forgotten to deliver it” he fiddled around in his jacket, “Here it is.”

 

I plucked the letter from his hand, “It’s already open.”

 

“We had a look ourselves.”

 

I quickly read the letter, “The tourney is in five days!  We need to tell the Department of Naval Studies immediately and –“

 

“They already know, they’ve set the course and we will be arriving in the first port right on time.  Didn’t they send you a letter?”

 

“I might ‘ave glanced over it.  Why am I the last to find out?  AirCom should have been the first to be notified.” I said as I continued to read.

 

“Apparently I need a new VP” said Billy.

 

“You don’t really mean that do you?” asked Willy.

 

“This says it’s only a qualifier for a larger tournament any idea –“

 

“Further details will be released to qualifying teams only” interrupted Willy, “We know as much as you do about this.  I suggest you gather your squad.”

 

“We’ve got a practice after classes, I’ll tell them then.”

 

“I suggest you tell them _now_ ” said Billy, “This tournament is very important for you.”

 

“Yeah, I know.  A five year slump is nothing to be proud about.  Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m late for an important date” I said running off down the hall.

 

“Wait!  We need to discuss your recent expenses and –“

 

“Send me the bill!”

 

 I disappeared into the hall as the sea became a stream funnelling into classrooms.  I nestled myself into a desk at the corner of the library and poured over the Shakespearean text.  To me it was nothing more than ye olde English gibberish filled with metaphor and imagery.  Still, I wrote a few simple paragraphs of phrases and lines hoping that they will prove useful later.  The bells tolled on schedule summoning the tide only to wash it away and summon it again.  The final bell was the most jubilant of the schedule and like with the days before I rushed out of the old institution.

 

“Holy mackerel, Captain” said Belle, “And you said the petrol bill would drive the student council up the wall.”

 

“Shut up and drive!” I ordered jumping into the carrier, “If we get out of here quick they won’t find out.”

 

“Too late” said Piccadilly pointing to the school doors.

“Captain Walker!  What in the world possessed you to park on the grass!” shouted the twins, clenching their fists and fuming, “Those tracks will –“

 

“Drive! Drive!  Drive!”

 

Belle threw the carrier into gear and sped down the lawn.  Dirt and grass were thrown high into the air.  Our wide tracks left a trail of garden destruction in its wake as we sped away from the fading screams and shouts of the student council.  Behind us Little Ben scowled at our harsh departure.  My heart was racing until we were roughly half way to the airfield.  When we arrived I made my way to the control tower to speak to Relay.

 

Carefully listening to the radio and drawing lines on maps was my old squad mate.  Relay was my height with a thin frame.  He fashioned his dirty blonde hair into an Ivy League cut with the part on the right side.  His grey eyes remained focused on the maps and papers in front of him.  The back of his leather jacket had a simple image of a radio tower with lightning bolts striking from the peak.  His left hand firmly gripped an oaken stick to help him limp around the room. 

 

“Sugar’s Blues to Relay” I said knocking on the door.

 

“Relay receiving Sugar’s Blues” he replied grinning as he left the radio, “What do you need Squadron Leader?”

 

“A couple of things old chum.  First how have you been?  Enjoying your post?”

 

“It’s a challenge, an enjoyable challenge but a challenge.”

 

“Makes you respect the old guy a little bit more, eh?”

 

“A little bit, but he had two other folks to help him out.  I’m up here all by my lonesome.”

 

“You’re not alone, you got the radio!” I said as I fiddled with the knobs and switches.

 

Relay laughed, “What was the other thing you needed?”

 

“Are there any wings up in the air?  If there are, any idea when they’ll be back?”

 

Relay flipped through a clipboard, “The bomber is out on a practice run at the moment, but they’ll be back within twenty minutes or so.  Regal took the rookies up over an hour ago.  They’ll be landing any minute.  The Tiffy wing is scheduled to go up in ten.”

 

“Cancel the Tiffy flight; I’ll give them the heads up if I catch them.  Once the others return tell them to meet in the library.  You’re coming too.”

 

“Important announcement?”

 

“Yeah, one that should have been made a week ago.”

 

As I walked out of the tower the Hurricanes were beginning their landing with Regal’s Spitfire circling overhead.  Lucky Lady and the rest of his wing walked up to me asking why I had cancelled their flight.  I reassured them it was something important and continued toward my office.  Memphis Belle and Piccadilly Lilly tossed darts at the board.  Beside the velvet circle in the small shelves, where the darts were kept, a handful of coins waited to be claimed.  Checkmate and Peacock faced off across the chess board, while Smilin’ Susie yawned as he flipped through a text in the library.

 

An important red envelope sat between the two piles of papers on my desk.  I tore open the envelope and pulled out the pages within.  There were several smaller envelopes contained within.  In the return address were several crests from the various school ships.

 

_Ah, the qualifying round’s rules are in here, which means the notes from the other teams are… Exactly as I thought, Gentlemen’s Rules._

“Captain, the other teams are back and we’re waiting for you in the library.”

 

“Roger that.”

 

I gathered up the papers and tucked them under my arm.  The lads were seated at the tables chattering about why I called this meeting.  Melody and the rest of the bomber crew were still dressed in battle kit.  Parachute and reserve chute hanging on their back and wait.  Their leather helmets pressed their hair into a flat sweaty mess.  The rookies sat at the edges of the tables listening to the others speak.  When the veterans pulled them into the conversation, Ashley answered politely and courteously, while Nolan answered quickly and bluntly.

 

I tapped Regal on the shoulder and whispered, “How’d they do?”

 

“From what you’ve told me, they’ve improved a fair bit” he whispered, “Maneuvers are smoother but they’re nowhere close to combat ready.”

 

“Well they’ll just have to stick to us like glue.  We’re plunging them into the deep end.”

 

“What?!”

 

“Attention lads!” I said making my way to the front of the room, “I’ve got good news and bad news, what do you want first?”

 

“Bad news, laddie!” shouted Smilin’ Susie as he leaned back in his chair.

 

“We’ve got a tournament in five days” I said.

 

The room erupted into ‘whoa’s’ and ‘what’s’, ‘are you serious’, and a whole bunch of other expressions of surprise and exasperation.

 

“What’s the good news?” asked Checkmate Cathie.

 

“We’ve got easy pickings for the first two rounds.”

 

“What do you meant the first two rounds?  Aren’t our tournaments usually brackets?” asked Memphis Belle.

 

“What we’ve got is a round robin style tournament to qualify for a larger tournament” I reviewed the page, “Our first match is Verdun, followed by New South Wales Academy.  Now, most of the participants have agreed to Gentlemen’s Rules, as will we.  We’re going to do some intensive training over the next five days.  From now until the first match we’ll have a practice every morning at six in addition to our after school practice.  Now I know you hate it, as do I, but we’re behind several days so we need to buckle down.  We’re going over everything in the book: one-on-one, one-on-two, multiple enemies, bomber escort, ground strike, the works.”

 

Melody, the bomber radio operator, raised his hand, “How many aircraft are we fielding in the matches?”

 

“We’re smaller than most of the teams so they’ll match our maximum force” I replied, “As for Verdun and NSWA, they can only must eight so we’ll meet them with our fighter wings.  Sorry Bomb Babes, you’ve gotta sit out the first two.”

 

“No worries, Cap” said Dipsy Daisy, the bomber pilot, “Let’s scoop up two easy wins.”

 

“Right, so it’ll be even fights for the rest of the round robin” said Piccadilly Lilly.

 

“Not exactly” I replied, “I didn’t receive a letter from Ortona so Gentlemen’s Rules aren’t in effect with them.  We’ll be up against their full force, twenty aircraft.”

 

“Right Bastards!”

 

“They’ve had it out for us for years” said Peacock, “This is no surprise.”

 

“What about us?” asked Nolan.

 

“You’re jumping in the deep end.  You’re going to take the Hurricanes up with us in every practice and fly them during the match against Ortona.”

 

“I want a Spitfire!” demanded Nolan.

 

“You’ve got only got two hours in Spits!  Consider yourself lucky I’m letting you fly at all during this!”

 

The room fell silent.

 

“Get prepped and ready to go; we go up in thirty minutes.”

 

The next few days push a level of stress on us we had never experienced before.  Our days began at five in the morning and didn’t end until seven.  We exhausted ourselves practicing maneuvers and fighting each other in the skies.  On top of our training we struggled to keep awake to finish our assignments and study for our tests.  Our lounge was eerily empty but the skies were filled.  The mechanical team was pleased however, every day they had a new challenge to undertake and we kept them busy.

 

Just as predicted the first two matches were easy sweeps.  We fell upon the pilots of Verdun and NSWA like Thor’s lightning and struck them down.  Our Typhoons performed expertly using their mighty engines to outrun the planes only to swing round again to unleash bursts of bright orange cannon fire.  My Spitfires turned and climbed tricking the enemy into our swarm.  We never flew alone.  We all defended each other, sticking to our wingmen like glue.  When a bandit fell on one of us, another quickly forced him away.  Our perfect wins against Verdun and NSWA reminded us of our old glory, but Ortona would prove the challenge.

 

The squadron broke through the thin clouds and levelled off at three thousand meters.  Our massive Wellington bomber was surrounded by our wings.  Leading the way were the Typhoons:  Checkmate Cathy, Peacock Paulie, Smilin’ Susie, their wing leader Lucky Lady.  Behind the Wellington were our two rookies.  Nolan led the rear; his face was crumpled and scowling as he searched the skies.  Ashley formed on his wing meticulously maintaining his distance and nervously glancing around him.  Our famous wing of Spitfire Mk IX’s flew above the formation ready to pounce.  Emblazoned on the sides of our planes were our lovely ladies.  From Lucky Lady to Sugar’s Blues our lovely ladies graced the sky like angels on high.

 

“All wings report in.”

 

“Piccadilly Lilly standing by.”

 

“Memphis Belle standing by.”

 

“Regal Seagull standing by.”

 

“Lucky Lady standing by.”

 

“Checkmate Cathie standing by.”

 

“Peacock Paulie standing by.”

 

“Smilin’ Susie standing by.”

 

“Bomb Babes standing by” reported Melody.

 

“Nolan Coventry standing by.”

 

“Ashley Waters standing by.”

 

“We’re outnumbered and got a spot of overcast for them to hide in, so keep your eyes open.”

 

“Can we go over the plan again squadron leader?” asked Ashley.

 

“Since we’re outnumbered we can’t afford to break into smaller squadrons to draw them out.

We stick close to the bomber and let the enemy some to us.  Typhoons and Hurricanes will bear the brunt of the initial attack but you’ll be able to outrun them pretty easy.  Once the enemy has committed Spitfires will drop down and begin our attack run.  Bomb Babes, you’re going to have a hard time switching to gunner positions, but we need you to keep the fire up.”

 

“Roger that.”

 

Our squadron continued on its level flight scouring the skies for Ortona.  When we had to turn to check a different sector we expertly executed the maneuver never breaking formation or losing speed.  Ten minutes had passed and we saw no signs of the enemy.

 

“And we bolted right out tearing up grass and dirt and flowers” said Piccadilly.

 

“Geez Cap, you must’ve been in a hell of a rush” said Smilin’ Susie.

 

I chuckled, “You’d be in a rush too if you saw the twins face.  They’re also not pleased with our recent joyrides with the carrier.”

 

“Don’t leave me hanging, laddie” said Smilin’ Susie, “Were they royally pissed?  Shocked?  Horrified?  Details lad, details!”

 

“Hey Peacock how are things with you?” asked Piccadilly.

 

“All is well” he replied, “And you?

 

“You’re a real conversationalist mate” said Lucky Lady.

 

A piano sang over the radio.  It was a slow familiar tune that repeated over and over.  With repetition another instrument would join the piano.  First a violin, then a cello, a clarinet, then the flute.  Each of the instruments repeated the exact same melody, the exact same tune, but they added a flare of their own to the piece.

 

“Geez Melody, don’t you have any records from at least the last century?” said Memphis Belle.

 

“Yeah put some Queen on the air” said Piccadilly.

 

“Follow it up with some Nena, 99 Luftballons is nice” said Checkmate.

 

“I support Checkmate” said Paulie.

 

“You guys have it all wrong” I said, “What we need is some smooth jazz.  Saxophones, trumpets, jazz clarinet and flute.  There ain’t nothing like it.”

 

“C’mon Captain, you’re taste in music is almost as old as Melody’s” said Smilin’ Susie.

 

“Bandit, three o’clock low!” announced Ashley.

 

The music stopped.

 

“Get on the guns!” ordered Melody.

 

My hand gripped the throttle and my feet were ready on the pedals.  The squadron quickly banked to get a glimpse of the bogey.

 

“It looks like a pair of Sparviero’s” said Lucky.

“Anything else?” I asked as I led my wing higher.

 

“Nope, just the bombers.”

 

“Roger” I said, “Stick with the Wellington, it’s just trying  to –“

 

“Nolan, get your ass back here!” shouted Smilin’ Susie.

 

I banked the Spitfire and saw a Hurricane break formation and dive for the bomber.  The second Hurricane wobbled for a few moments before joining the other in the attack.  The radio flared with chatter and curses. 

 

“Captain, this is Melody, are we diving to attack?”

 

“Stupid, goddamn glory chaser, damn rookies!” cursed Piccadilly and many others.

 

“Cut the chatter!” I ordered, “Negative Melody, keep level.  All wings, stick with the Wellington.  Keep your eyes open.  The fighters can’t be far off.”

 

The two Hurricanes refused to climb.  The leader started to level out.  At close range all eight machine guns released a stream of fire.  The bullets found their mark and the bomber was soon trailing black.  The two Hurricanes were focused on finishing off the second bomber.  As the bomber descended and retreated the full fury of Ortona was released.  A horde of MC 202 fighters, painted brown with leopard spots, dove from the clouds.  The fighters swarmed around the rookies.  Sparks of tracer machine gun fire streaked across the sky.  The two managed to take down the bomber but they were in dire straits.  Four fighters fell on each of them.  Nolan pulled up hard wasting his energy and stalling.  Ashley wobbled left and right unsure what to do.  Within seconds both of them were trailing black.

 

“Someone give me a count!”

 

“Ten…twelve…I count eighteen, that’s all of them!” said Regal Seagull.

 

“I confirm the count” said Peacock Paulie.

 

“Typhoons, go!  Bomb Babes begin your descent!” I ordered, “Call out the wing and squadron leaders if you find them!”

 

“Roger!”

 

The Typhoons roared into action.  The Wellington lumbered as it banked to the right and began a shallow descent into the battle.

 

“Follow me!” said Lucky Lady, “On my order…Break!  Break!  Break!”

 

The four attackers came straight down at the enemy.  The Ortona fighters tried to reform as they climbed to meet our assault.  White tracers mixed with orange.  Tails of thick black smoke streaked across the clouds.  Lucky and his wing banked left as they left the swarm and sped away at a thirty degree climb. 

“We knocked out four in the head on, Sugar’s Blues.”

 

Ortona pulled hard on their elevators.  The fighters slowed and began to flip over to chase Lucky.  A few of the fighters pulled a tight turn and dove on the retreating Typhoons.  Machine guns rattled and struck the wing.

 

“Peacock Polly here.  I took several hits but I’m still in it.”

 

“I got peppered but I’m okay” said Susie.

 

“Spitfires, dive!  Break!  Break!  Break!”

 

“Time to join the war lads!” said Piccadilly Lilly.

 

We sped down into the fray and passed the lumbering Wellington.  The MC 202’s were half way through their loops.  The white bottoms were perfect targets.  Our machine guns and cannons came down like a jungle rain.

 

“Scratch one!” said Memphis Belle.

 

“Same here” said Regal.

 

“Yahoo!” said Piccadilly.

 

“And one for me too.”

 

Lucky and his squadron had come about and were entering the battle.  Ortona finished their maneuvers and the real battle began.  The remaining fighters fell quickly gripped our tails. 

 

_It falls to pilot skill now._

The pulled up as hard as I could and rolled the plane to the left.  The Spitfire flipped over, my vision blurred and turned grey for a moment.  When everything was clear the fighter was still on my tail.  I forced the rudder to the side and choked the throttle.  The effect was small but it was enough.  The 202 over shot and darted through the air.  I completed the roll and searched for a target. 

 

“Get this guy off me!” shouted Memphis as he turned to the right.

 

“I’m busy!” replied Regal trying to shake off his own attacker. 

 

I pushed the throttle to full and chased Memphis.  I had too much energy and over shot.  I angled the plane slightly up and swung back around like a yo-yo returning to the hand.  I tailed the MC 202 Folgore as it let out bursts of machine gun.

 

“Lilly reverse the turn on my mark.”

 

“Roger that.”

 

“Turn!”

 

Lilly banked left and raised the elevators. The Spitfire responded with a difficult turn wasting energy as it went.  His tail followed in suit exposing the top of his aircraft.  I pressed the trigger.  A hail of bullet and shell crashed into the wings and exploded in bright display of sparks and streaks.  A jet of black smoke spewed from the tail and he dove away.

 

“I’ve lost rudder control and my ailerons are shot” said Piccadilly, “I gotta trail white.”

 

A white jet trailed behind Piccadilly Lilly as he backed away from the fight.  Out of the corner of my eye a Typhoon had been surrounded by fighters.

 

“Gah!  I’m all banged up and trailing black.  Sorry laddies.” said Smilin’ Susie as he dove to the earth.

 

“Same here” said Regal Seagull, “There were just too many on me.”

 

“Shit, they’re starting to swarm” said Checkmate Cathie.

 

“Ha!  They can’t take us in pairs so they need to gang up on us.  They must be real desperate to get revenge” said Memphis Belle.

 

“Up high!”

 

A slew of fire splashed on Memphis Belle and the dreaded black smoke plumed.

 

“Dammit!”

 

“Sorry we’re late.”

 

Rumbling into the chaos our massive bomber forced its way into the fight.  Light spewed from the sides and rear as the gunners of Bomber Babes unleashed their fury.  The small caliber guns picked away at the fighters scattering them for a few essential moments.  Ortona swarmed the bomber dashing in and out of the gunner’s zones.   

 

“I’ve lost the engines” reported Dipsy Daisy, “Rudder too.  Now the elevator.  That’s it we’re gone.”

 

The bomber poured smoke from its engines and let out a screeching roar as it fell to the ground. 

 

“I found him!” hollered Lucky Lady, “The one with the yellow nose!”

 

“A wing leader is beside him” said Peacock Paulie, “The yellow wing tips.”

 

I quickly ran the tally in my head, “Rack them up.  Check and Paulie get the wing leader, Lucky and I will grab the Squad leader.”

 

We broke off from our engagements and sped toward the two planes.  The wing and squadron leader split apart and began to weave into each other like a pair of scissors opening and closing.  I ascended above the maneuver while Lucky sped straight on.  Lucky quickly fell on the leader’s tail and released a burst of cannon.  The fighter turned to continue the weave, the tracers harmlessly falling behind.  I made my move.  The Spitfire angled down and pushed into the widest part of the weave.  I held down the trigger unloading every last round.  His wingman closed on my tail and unleashed his own barrage.  The rounds rattled against the wings and the protective glass of the cockpit, but I didn’t pull away.  Round after round slammed into the fighter until the wonderful sight of black smoke trailed.  I tried to pull away but the controls were sluggish from the attack.  A stream of orange tracers flew over my canopy.

 

“We got the wing leader!” said Checkmate Cathie with a cheer.

 

“Mission time limit reached.  White Knights Squadron wins with thirty points out of a possible fifty seven points, against Centurion Squadron’s score of thirteen of possible squadron elimination” announced the judges over the radio.

 

“Good work lads, let’s head back to base.”

 

The airfield was a bustle with activity.  Our fighters lined both sides of the field with their pilots taking inventory of the damage.  The Universal Carrier scurried about the field and latched on to the aircraft and towed them into the hangars.  The mechanical club quickly set about their work all sorts of tools and implements.  As I landed the plane the group began to file into the lounge.  As I stepped through the door Piccadilly Lilly was setting up the projector and preparing the film reel.  The lads shuffled around the lounge and chatted aimlessly.

 

“Well, let’s break this old thing out again” said Memphis Belle pulling out a large board from my office.

 

Memphis and a couple of the others raised the large black board and hung it on the wall.  Our call signs were written in chalk.  Beside our names were balkenkreuz indicating our personal victories.  At the bottom of the list was Peacock Paulie with five marks.  At the top of the list were Lucky Lady and Piccadilly Lilly with fifteen marks to their name.  A group of five names scribbled on the other side of the board had little bomb symbols instead, the Bomber Babes have sure done a lot of work with ten strikes to their name. 

 

“Hey, what’s this cover about” said Smilin’ Susie pulling the cloth away, “That’s better.”

 

Regal Seagull whistled in amazement, “Geez Cap, I forgot how many you had.”

 

“Yeah, yeah, it ain’t a big deal.”

 

“Ain’t a big deal?  You’ve got nearly twenty-five marks.  The only other guy I remember close to that many marks is –“

 

“But the board says Earl Grey leads the squadron in kills” said Ashley.

 

The Squadron became silent.

 

“It’s my old call sign” I said.

 

“Well we’ll fix that right away” said Lucky Lady grabbing a stick of chalk, “There we go, ‘Sugar Blue’s’ right where it belongs.”

 

“Why didn’t you keep the old –“

 

“Reel’s ready” said Piccadilly.

 

The squadron shuffled chairs around the room and took their seats.  We primarily used the wing leaders’ and my footage from the battle.  Throughout the debriefing we went over all the maneuvers and problems that happened during the fight.  Overall the wing leaders and I were pleased with the conduct and performance of the squadron.  Despite being outnumbered the wings did their jobs and managed to keep a level head.  Our largest problem stemmed from the swarming tactics used by larger forces and another issue…

 

“Stop.  Rewind.” I said, “Now what were you thinking, Nolan?”

 

“The bombers were undefended and easy targets” he replied, “I –“

 

“Undefended?  Did you forget about the swarm of fighters that knocked you out seconds after your gung-ho attack!”

 

“It was my attack that drew the fighters down and granted you the opportunity to retaliate and –“

 

“Your dumb attack delayed the Wellington from supporting the fighter group.  Even if they had the altitude advantage and attacked first he Bomber Babes would’ve been able to keep the guns blazing and forced the fighters to climb early, or pull in the greedy pilots like you into a vulnerable position for us to shoot down.  Instead they had to circle around to keep from locking up in a steep descent and joined the fight late, and because a couple of our fighters had to retreat we couldn’t provide enough cover for the Wellington.”

 

“I – I –“

 

“And you Ashley, why did you follow him?  Didn’t you hear us on the radio trying to get him to climb back?”

 

“Yes sir” he replied nervously, “I followed because I was his wingman and you don’t abandon your wingman.”

 

“Practice begins tomorrow at 6:00 a.m.” said Piccadilly, “Our next match is against the yanks in two days.  Squadron dismissed.”

 

“The wing leaders and I will review the footage and award victories to the pilots” I said gathering the other film reels, “Enjoy the rest of the day.”

 

The squadron filed out in good spirits over our small streak of wins.

 

I looked away from setting up the projector, “What do you want, rookie?” 

 

“I am here to ensure I am awarded the victories for shooting down the two Sparviero bombers” said Nolan.

 

“You aren’t getting a damn thing” said Piccadilly as he put the chairs back into place.

 

“I demand –“

 

“You can’t demand anything” said Lucky.

 

“This is unfair!”

 

I was up to my ears in frustration, “Listen up and listen good!  You’re damn attitude has no place in this squadron.  I don’t care how good you are or how many kills you get.  Until you learn to work with the squadron, you won’t get a damn thing.  And so help me God, if I didn’t need pilots I had grounded you.”

 

“I’ll show you” he grumbled as he stormed out of the room.

 

I rubbed the back of my neck and sighed, “It’s going to be a long round robin.”

 

 

 

 

 


	3. Chapter 3

“And now for the results of the AirCom Qualifying Round Robin” buzzed the radio, “In accordance with the tournament rules, only the top six teams have been selected to move on.  In first place, Ohka Squadron of Rising Sun Academy.  In second place, Jaeger Squadron of Richthofen College High.  In third place, Sturmovich Squadron of Pravda Men’s Academy.  Fourth place has been awarded to Screaming Eagles Squadron of Midway High School.  Fifth place, White Knight Squadron of Excalibur Commonwealth Academy.  Finally, sixth place goes to Centurion Squadron of Ortona Accademia.  Congratulations to our victors and we eagerly wait for your next exciting exploits.  College cricket has seen some new developments wi –“

 

The team stared at their feet with a glaze of disappointment.  Smilin’ Susie frowned as he rolled the cue ball around the velvet top.  Checkmate and Peacock fiddled with the chess piece as their heads sulked in their hands.  The night sky was covered in dark clouds and the cold wind rustled the grass.  The yellow light poured out of the windows and lit the few meters.  The lonely light was the only beacon in the depressing night.

 

“Three wins, two draws, and two losses” said Lucky Lady.

 

“Verdun, NWSA, and Ortona were all beat by the other teams too” said Regal Seagull, “So it’s more like two draws and two losses.”

 

“At least we made it” said Memphis Belle.

 

“Lads, I’ll grant you that qualifiers were less than stellar, but like Memphis said, we made it into the tournament” I said adjusting the totals on the scoreboard, “Up next is the real deal, based on all the secrecy this tournament is going to be the biggest one we’ve ever seen.  This means we’ve got a chance.  We’ve got a real chance to break our losing streak in a big way.  So let’s show everyone what for.  White Knights!”

 

“White Knights” groaned the team.

 

_This is going to be tougher that I thought.  Maybe all those congratulations were sarcasm after all._

“Have a good night lads” I said retreating into my office.

 

I hung my jacket and stared at the mass of papers across the desk joined by a large package wrapped in brown paper.  Beyond the window was only darkness.  The yellow light shone on the wall behind my desk.  Old pictures hung with a thick coating of dust hiding the grinning faces.  I wiped my hand over the glass revealing the old heroes of the White Knights from the humble beginnings to the present.  Hundreds of faces grinned as they posed in front of their prized planes.  As I came closer and closer to the present the number of pilots shrank and the smiles began to fade away.  Only the freshmen smiled.  But by the next year it had gone.  Above the photos were honoured plaques with the names of all the victorious pilots and on the shelf above were the grand trophies, but the final five only had placeholders for plaques and empty spots for triumphs that never came.

 

Fury coursed through my veins.  My fists clenched, my muscles stiffened, my nostrils flared and my breath became short and heavy like a bull’s.  My vision was blinded with crimson.  With a great roar I threw the papers into a flurry, the package slammed against the wall with a heavy thud.  Chairs tumbled across the room knocking the trophies from the shelves as they went.  In my rage I hurled the trophies across the room and pulled the photos from the wall.  A calamitous racket was drowned by my string of profanity and inarticulate wrath.

 

Piccadilly Lilly burst through the door, “Captain, what’s going – what the hell happened in here?”

 

“Captain, are you alright?” asked Regal Seagull following through.

 

I continued to throw anything loose through the air.  Piccadilly and Regal grabbed my arms and pulled me back.  I didn’t need my arms.  I kicked and screamed as they dragged me to the ground.  My eyes were watery, my knuckles slightly bloodied from hitting the wall, and the rest of my body bruised.

 

“Let me go!” I growled.

 

“Only when you’ve calmed down” said Piccadilly holding my right arm straight.

 

“I’m calm!  I’m calm!” I said struggling against the grapple.

 

“Doesn’t sound like you’re calm” said Regal pushing me down.

 

I took a deep breath, counted to three, and relaxed my limbs.  After a few moments, and once they were sure, they released me and we sat silently on the ground.  The office was a horrendous mess.  Papers were strewn across the office; shards of glass embedded themselves in the carpet.  Some of the old photos had torn and the tops of trophies had snapped off.  The wood chipped from the chair legs and desk.

 

“Look at this” I said gazing at the all the old memories, “All of this.”

 

“We’ll help clean up the mess” said Regal picking up the pages with Lilly.

 

 I sat on the floor staring at the plaques and trophies and photos, “Years of champions.”

 

Regal put a chair upright, “The White Knights will be champs again.”

 

“We got in by the skin of our teeth” I said, “How can we make it up to them?  How do we add to the legacy.”

 

“We can start by breaking the slump” said Piccadilly, “That’s how we make it up to them.  That’ll be our legacy.”

 

“It’ll take a wing and a prayer, but we’ll do it” added Regal, “Come on Cap, let’s go.”

 

“I need to log the scores” I said rising to my feet, “The lads want to know how well they’ve done.”

 

“Alright.”

 

I leaned back into my chair, grabbed the tally page, and opened the small side drawer.  Inside was a little leather black book.  I flipped through the pages to the current roster and started going down the list.  One to Smilin’ Susie, half to Lucky Lady and Peacock Paulie, and so on down the list.  Once I finished filling the log book I began to transfer the marks onto the large scoreboard.  The book slipped from my sweaty palms and fluttered to the floor.  The book landed open on a page from ten years ago.  My eyes widened and jaw dropped.  I sighed, frustratingly pressed my fingers on my eyes and clenched my other hand.

 

_The old teams scored kills into the forties.  We’re having a hard time getting twenty, but at least the other teams have been slipping too from what I hear.  Still we’ve got a long way to go to reach their caliber._    

 

“There’ll be bluebirds over the White Cliffs of Dover…” sang a woman’s voice as I ticked the chalk across the board.

 

_Melody forgot to turn off the record player again.  But it’s nice to have some music._

 

“Our legacy” echoed Piccadilly’s voice.

 

_Why did I suddenly think of that?  I must be getting tired._

 

“It’ll take a wing and a prayer, but we’ll do it” echoed Regal’s voice.

 

_A wing and a prayer, huh? We break the slump then what?  We can’t hold a candle to the old guys._

I stood in the door of my office and stared at the half cleaned mess.  The package lay at my foot with dented edges.

 

_Might as well see what’s inside._

 

Running shoes squeaked across the shining lacquer of the gymnasium floor as they scurried to keep balls from striking the ground.  In red and white t-shirts and shorts the athletes leaped high into the air to strike the ball hard over the net.  With a heavy thump his opponent took the impact and bumped the ball above his head so it may be pushed higher by another.  A long blast of the whistle signalled the end of the class.  Sweat dripped from our brows and our hearts pounded rapidly in our chest.  Cool refreshing water flowed from the taps and down our gullets.  When we had our fill we let the water wash over our head and necks like a waterfall.

 

“Everything alright, Captain?” asked Piccadilly taking a sip from an orange can.

 

“Yeah” I replied.

 

“Hey, don’t beat yourself up over it” said Lilly, “We’ve all got some of the blame to share.  But hey, like you said yourself we’ve finally got a chance.”

 

“A big chance” I smirked.

 

Lilly raised an eye brow, “Well, I gotta get to class.  I’ll see you in the skies.”

 

I nodded.  The rest of the day went by in an unmemorable blur.  There were mentions of someone named Banquo who fought in the War of the Roses using the derivative of the cosine for the Kingdom Animalia… or something like that.

 

The lounge was at its usual, filled with the entire squadron.  They drank and talked and joked.  The Bomber Babes surrounded the pool table lining up shots and pocketing balls.  Memphis Belle and Regal Seagull hurled darts against the wall while heckling each other to miss.  Checkmate and Paulie found their regular seats at the chess board calculating their moves well into the future.  In the corner Smilin’ Susie was having a very energetic conversation with Ashley Waters and Piccadilly Lilly.  I could faintly hear a few mentions of arm wrestling but I could be mistaken.  Nolan sat silently in the corner staring at me through the corner of his eye.  The atmosphere was completely different from the night before, as if the poor performance during the qualifiers was a distant memory. 

 

I skirted around the room and stepped into my office.  I quickly grabbed the open contents from the package on my desk: several manuals, several pages of paper, and another letter in a sealed envelope. 

 

“Take a seat lads” I said, “I’ve got news about the tournament.”

 

“Let’s get back at the bastards!” said Susie followed by a cheer.

 

“The skies belong to the Knights!  We owe it to the old guys!”

 

“What did you tell them?” I said pulling Lilly aside.

 

“Only what they needed to hear” he replied.

 

“Listen up, all our fighters will be modified to carry small or large bombs and all our training will involve ground attack.  Typhoons, you lads are already used to this.  Spitfires, we’ve got a lot to do; get used to turning, climbing, diving, and weaving with those babies.  And starting right now, Bomber Babes, you’re flying every mission we go on.”

 

There was a small cheer from the bomber crew and several puzzled looks from the rest of the squadron.

 

I tossed the manuals to the squadron, “You’ll need to read these and know all the rules especially about allowable weapons.” 

 

“Captain, these are tankery manuals” said Regal Seagull.

 

“What’s going on, Cap?  We’re pilots not tankers.” said Memphis Belle, “You’re not thinking of taking the Universal Carriers against tanks are you?”

 

“Open top vehicles are against the regulations” said Peacock flipping through the pages.

 

“Gentlemen, we are going to embark on something that has never been done before” I began, “We got through the qualifiers by the skin of our teeth and it was worth it.  We are going to be part of the first Global Combined Arms: Tankery and AirCom (CATAC) Tourney.  We’ve been paired up with a tankery team, and both Tankery and AirCom will have to work together to complete the tournament objectives.”

 

“So what are the tournament rules?” asked Piccadilly Lilly.

 

“Tournament rules combine both AirCom and Tankery rules, which is why I handed out the manuals.  Each round of the tournament has different objectives for the combined team.  Generally it involves AirCom supporting the tankery team as it tries to fulfill its objectives.  Our scoring system is used but will only be used if the tanks are all eliminated.  In the event of a tied score, we go to an Ace duel.  This is why the bombers will always be in the mission.”

 

“So we’re flying high and dropping bombs while beating back the other flyboys” said Memphis Belle, “Sounds simple enough.”

 

“If we’re doing ground strikes and dogfighting I say we strap the rockets onto the Tiffy’s” suggested Lucky Lady, “Let loose a couple of those and we’ve cleared a path for the tanks.”

 

“Rockets are prohibited under the rules of tankery” said Peacock Paulie running his finger across the pages of the manual.

 

Ashley Waters raised his hand, “Umm… wouldn’t dropping bombs be dangerous to the tankers?”

 

“Don’t worry, AirCom rules state we can only use ‘Party Poppers’ f or our bomber escort matches.  I’m guessing the same applies to this tournament” said Checkmate turning in his seat.

 

“Exactly” confirmed Peacock.

 

“Party poppers?”

 

“They’re bombs that don’t do any real damage, like our cannon and machine gun rounds.  Once they hit the ground they explode but there’s no damage, just a big flash and a helluva lot of noise.  Scares the crap out of people” said Bombardier Bouncing Brooke.

 

“We’ve got a chance to get back at the bastards!” said Smilin’ Susie pumping his fist into the air.

 

“Right.  All pilots get up early.  We’re flying out to meet the tankers.” I said, “Any questions?”

 

Piccadilly Lilly stood up, “Who’d we get paired up with?”

 

The group huddled into two Universal Carriers and continued to roll down the street.  It’s been a long time since we had set foot on land.  We took a small break to grab a bite to eat and admire the local girls.  Soon after, we went on our merry way to search for our partners.

 

“No, no, no.  We need to take a left, go down three kilometers, then a right” said Piccadilly Lilly tracing the path on the map.

 

“No, we’re here” I said snatching the map, “We’re here.  It’s straight two kilometres, a right, then an immediate left.”

 

“Will you make up your minds?” asked Memphis, “We’ve been driving around for two hours now.”

 

“Take a left, go three kilometers, than a right” ordered Piccadilly pointing down the street.

 

“No!  Straight two, right, then left!”

 

“Hello, Compass Rose?  You’ve been on our tail the entire way right?” Regal sighed on his phone, “You got a map?  Good.  Yeah, they’re trying to figure it out.  I know, they can navigate the skies but regular streets baffle them.  So how do we get to where we need to go?  Right, got it.  Well that’s why we made bomber’s navigator.  Thanks, mate.  Memphis, take the third left, the second right, then straight on.  You can’t miss it after that.”

 

“Right!”

 

“No, left!”

 

“Right!”

 

“Bloody hell.”

 

Eventually we got to where we needed to go.  Our little carriers rolled up the ramps and onto the ship’s streets.  The place was drastically different from our academy ship.  The trees were pruned into strange but serene shapes and bore pink flowers, and in small pots were miniature trees.  Outside a few small shops were little cat statues that waved as we passed by.  We drew a couple strange looks as we passed through the streets.

 

“Right, take the carriers round back.  There should be some hangars where they keep the tanks” I said.

 

We rolled the carriers over the field, through the red gravel paths, and came to a stop a couple blocks away from the hangars.

 

“Best behaviour lads” I said leading them.

 

“Anyone knows anything about these tankers?” asked Melody.

 

“New team from what I hear” said Memphis Belle, “Not much after that.”

 

“They’re ladies.  That’s all I care about, which means I need to make a good first impression,” Similin’ Susie took a wide stance with his fists on his hips.

 

Piccadilly laughed, “Well he’s in a good mood.”

 

“You should’ve worn something else if you wanted to make a good impression” said Checkmate.

 

“Don’t you go making fun of my kilt.”

 

“It’s a skirt” said Peacock glancing up from the manual pages.

 

“You’re just jealous.”

 

“Hey Relay,” I said, “How you feeling about this?”

 

“I’m a little nervous, but it’s quite exciting” he said limping, “I wonder if they’ve heard of us to be honest.”

 

“Today we’re meeting the White Knights, our partners for this tournament” said a woman’s voice beyond the metal doors.

 

The team pressed up against the wall and peered in to listen.  Eight tanks of all shapes sizes were arranged along the back wall recently cleaned.  In a large group at the center of the hangar were all the girls of the tank team, mostly in school uniform.

 

“So who are the White Knights, exactly” asked a girl with long light brown hair.

 

_Well that’s deflating._

 

“They’re some of the best pilots in the skies from what we’ve heard though they’ve been in a bit of a slump” said a woman with dark brown hair held up in a fluffy pony tail and brown eyes.

 

_Would’ve been nice if you left the last part out._

 

“What are they like?”

 

“Don’t know since we’ve never met them” said a girl with reddish brown hair in two long tails as she munched on a dried potato, “But if they were a top team they must be pretty cool.”

 

“That’s what she said about our instructor too” muttered a girl with long ginger hair and light brown eyes.

 

“Are you still hung up on that” giggled a girl with long elegant black hair and silvery eyes.

 

“I can’t wait to see what planes they fly!  What do you think?  Mustangs?  Zeroes?  109s?”  asked a girl with curly short dark brown hair and eyes and brimming with enthusiasm.

 

“I thought you were fascinated by tanks?” asked the ginger haired girl.

 

“I love tanks” replied the chipper girl, “But I also know a little bit out planes too.”

 

There was a tap on my shoulder.  Piccadilly and the others pointed to a door on the side of the hangar with devious smiles on their faces.  We carefully creaked open the door and snuck around the shadows. We broke into our wings and crept up behind some tanks.  Slowly we clambered over the hull and into the cramped compartment.  Piccadilly, Regal, Memphis and I had unfortunately picked the smallest tank of the group.  It had a tall front and a small gun with a machine gun pointing out of the rear of the turret.  The chassis was held up by the very tall thin tracks. 

 

“Hey Memphis do you know how to start this thing?” I whispered.

 

Memphis gripped the various controls, “Shouldn’t be that hard.”

 

I carefully opened the side hatch and saw the other guys doing the same.  In the background the girls were chatting away.  I gave them a thumb up.  The engines roared to life, surprised shouts and a couple screams followed the first rumble.

 

“They’re alive!” screamed a girl.

 

“Ghosts have taken our tanks!”

 

“We’re sorry we keep getting knocked out, tank ghost!” cried another.

 

The lads laughed as we shut off the engines and climbed out of the tanks.

 

“Sorry girls” I said laughing as I poked out of the turret.

 

“Get out of there” shouted a girl with black straight hair and a single eyeglass, “Who do you think you are?”

 

“We’re the White Knights” I walked forward and offered my hand, “I’m Johnny Walker, but everyone calls me Sugar’s Blues, it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

 

“Piccadilly Lilly.  Sorry for the little scare, we thought it might get a laugh or two.”

 

“Aye, it got me laughing.  Smilin’ Susie at your service.”

 

“Why’s he wearing a skirt?” muttered the girl as she grabbed another dried potato from a package.

 

“It’s not a skirt!”

 

“Nice to meet you all.  I’m Yuzu and the girl who yelled at you was Momo-chan –“”

 

“Don’t call me that!  I’m Momo Kawashima, not Momo-chan.”

 

“And this is Anzu Kadotani, the Student Council President.”

 

“Howdy!”

 

“Student Council President?” asked Nolan from the back, “You are commander as well, I presume.”

 

“Nope” she took a bite of her snack, “That would be Miho.”

 

Miho was a girl of average height and slender build.  She had brown-orange hair that framed her soft face and friendly smile.  Her eyes shimmered like hazel gemstones.  She was dressed in her school uniform like the other girls, a while long sleeved shirt with a green trim along the lapels and accessorised with a black scarf tied into a pretty bow, and a short pleated green skirt.  I gazed at her for a moment since she looked strangely familiar.  Then I remembered where I’ve seen her before.  I realized that if it were it not for her warm demeanor and lighter hair she was almost identical to her sister.

 

“It’s nice to meet you” she said with a bright smile.

 

“The pleasure is all mine” I said, “You made quite an impression on Darjeeling.  Oh, and congratulations on your championship victory.”

 

“Thank you” she said.

 

The girl with ginger hair stared at me dumbfounded with googly eyes.

 

“Hello” I waved.

 

“H-h-hello.  You’re a boy” she said nervously.

 

I laughed, “Indeed I am.  I’m sorry I’m not better looking.”

 

The girl with elegant black hair put her hands on the ginger girl’s shoulders.

 

“What she means to say is ‘Hello, I’m Saori Takebe’” she said for her, “and I’m Hana Isuzu.”

 

I turned to my team, “C’mon lads, introduce yourselves.”

 

Slowly but surely the two teams approached each other and introduced themselves.  There were a few awkward moments and sporadic silences as we tried to find common ground other than the tournament.  Luckily those moments quickly passed and the hangar filled with idle chit-chat and a few laughs and giggles.  I don’t remember who suggested it, but the girls clambered into their tanks and revved the engines and gave us a demonstration of their armour.  The sound of cannon thundered with the clank and clatter of treads.

 

Memphis Belle gave an appreciative whistle, “That’s a lot of power.  I think we’ve got some great partners.”

 

_I forgot.  Many of the lads haven’t seen St. Gloriana and the other academies’ tanks._

 

“Impressive” said Piccadilly, “So I guess it’s our turn.”

 

“Hmm?” asked Miho.

 

“Well, you’ve shown us yours” said Memphis Belle.

 

“Now we’ll show you ours” I finished, “It’s a bit of a drive.  Do you mind?”

 

“Sounds like fun” said Anzu.

 

The boys returned to the carriers, I personally clambered on top of the Panzer IV and chatted with the crew as we rolled down the road.  We had a little chat about hobbies and interests, places we’ve been, life on school ship, and an assortment of other topics.  Hana is an adept at flow arrangement which suited her elegant nature perfectly.  Mako was an astute student despite her lethargic appearance.  Miho is a timid girl that liked to spend time with her friends, while Yukari was overly enthusiastic about tanks.  Saori was an odd one.  When I tried to engage her in conversation she always stumbled on her words or froze midsentence to stare into my eyes.  She was a charming girl nonetheless and very friendly.

 

The tanks were arranged in a row in front of our hangar.  The girls sat on their armour relaxed and cheerfully talking with some of the boys.  Lucky, Susie, and the Bomber Babes rolled back the hangar doors.  The afternoon sun poured into the hangar revealing our pride and joys. 

 

Lined on the left were the Typhoons in all their glory, the brilliant cockpit and thick wings.  The entire airframe was painted in grey and dark green camouflage.  To the right were the Spitfires with their signature elliptical wings.  Like the Tiffy’s they were painted in grey and green camouflage, but over the wings were thick black and white stripes reminiscent of the invasion stripes used in the war.  In two corners were two Hurricanes painted in solid khaki.   

 

In the centre were two bombers, the first was the Wellington with its slender frame and two engines.  Dwarfing our light bomber was the great Lancaster with a massive wing span and four roaring engines.  Both were painted in browns and greens, and from the sides pointed the many guns that defended the payload.

 

On all our planes our personal crests were proudly displayed on the fuselage beside the roundels.  The girls were all smiles and astonishment at our planes.  Yukari was the most enthusiastic as she admired the wings and asked us a variety of questions from performance to maintenance.  She was surprisingly knowledgeable already.

 

“So this is where you are hiding, and I see you’ve dragged some others along with you.”

 

Standing in the hangar door were the student council representatives.  Prim and proper and slicked hair, Billy and Willy crossed their arms and glared at me.

 

Anzu walked toward them and warmly said, “Hi, I’m Anzu, Student Council President of Ooarai.”

 

“Nice to meet you” replied Billy, “I’m Billy, Student Council President.  This is Willy, my brother and Vice-President.”

 

“What do you need Willy?”

 

“I’m Billy!”

 

“Whatever.”

 

“We came to ask how the practice was coming along.  It seems Captain Walker has decided to slack off instead of following our request.  I trust you disagreed with Mr. Walker’s actions, Ms. Anzu.”

 

“What request?” we both asked.

 

Billy glared at Willy, “We had requested that you demonstrate your capabilities to work together through a small contest.”

 

Willy nervously stretched his collar, “Our proposal was to have each tank paired with a pilot and undertake a simple elimination match.  It would make good practice and let both groups know what the other is capable of.  What do you say?  And to make things a little more interesting, the winning team will be given a little prize.”

 

“What kind of prize?” asked an Ooarai girl.

 

“Let’s not spoil the surprise” said Billy with a smirk.

 

“Alright, let’s do it!” said Anzu with a big grin, “And the bottom team has to do the Anko Dance!”

 

The girl’s faces were horrified by the mention of a dance. 

 

“We have a problem though” said Regal, “We have more planes than tanks.  How exactly are we going to split the teams?”

 

“Well, since some of your pilots are genuine aces, so to speak, they should be able to handle a lesser pair no?” suggested Billy.

 

I pointed ay my face, “I’m guessing you mean me, in particular?”

 

“Yes, of course, but we also believe your wing leaders would be appropriate as well.”

 

“I swear they have it out for us” muttered Lucky in an aside.

 

“And I’m guessing the wingmen will stay the same.”

 

“Exactly.”

 

“No fair!” protested Melody, “The bomber goes without cover and we’ll be down in a second flat!”

 

“Agreed” I said, “I propose we put the rookies to escort the bomber, Lilly and I’ll fly solo but we get two of the tank teams.  That evens it out right?”

 

Billy counted on his fingers for a moment, “Very well.  Now, how shall we pick teams.”

 

“Don’t worry we’ve already thought of that while you were all bickering” said Anzu.

 

Momo held out a hand full of paper pieces, “There are several blank pieces and a couple of numbered pieces.  If you get a number that’s your group.  We’ll draw pilots after.”

 

“Let’s see if Lady Luck favours you” said Lucky.

 

The tank commanders quickly drew their lots and within a minute or two the teams were decided as follows:

 

-Duck Team, Type 89 and Hippo Team, Stug III with Sugar’s Blues

-Leopon Team, Porsche Tiger with Nolan Coventry and Ashley Waters

-Turtle Team, Panzer 38(t) and Rabbit Team, M3 Lee with Piccadilly Lilly

-Anglerfish Team, Panzer IV with Lucky Lady and Smilin’ Susie

-Mallard Team, Char B-1bis with Memphis Belle and Regal Seagull

-Anteater Team with Bomber Babes (Lancaster)

 

“Excellent” said Billy, “Now let us begin.”

 

A bright flash filled the hangar followed by a clap of thunder.  A heavy rain fell from the heavens drenching the ground within moments.  The dark clouds above showed no signs of breaking anytime soon.

 

“Looks like we’ll have to postpone until the storm breaks” said Momo.

 

“Rain check?” jests Memphis Belle.

 

“We’ll have to move the tanks inside” said Miho, “Do you mind if we borrow your hangar for a while?”

 

“They’ll be welcome guests” Regal Seagull.

 

Smilin’ Susie snapped his fingers, “Since we’re grounded for a wee bit, how about we grab something to eat.   The kitchen’s the next building over, I’m sure the boys are cooking up something right now.”

 

“How about I cook a meal for all of you” said Saori suddenly realizing how much she’d have to make.

 

“That’s a lot to cook” said Checkmate.

 

“It would be my pleasure” said Saori with a nervous smile.

 

“Well, now how about that we haven’t had a pretty lady cook for us before” said Smilin’ Susie, “And as a gentleman I’d be happy to help.”

 

“I’ll lend a hand too” said Checkmate, “How about you Paulie?”

 

“Indeed” said Peacock.

 

One after another offered to help Saori cook the meal.  By the end of it all everyone, boys and girls, had put something into the delicious meal.  It was a delightful spread of cuisines from both of our backgrounds.  Roasted beef and vegetables and chips from the Isles were joined by noodle dishes and poultry with the unique seasonings from the land of the rising sun, and many more dishes graced the tables.  The mess hall was completely full, a sight it hasn’t seen since a long time ago.  I looked over the hall and saw smiling faces in the lads, forgetting our disgraceful history over the past few years.  I nodded in solitary approval before taking my seat with my partners for tomorrow’s game. 


	4. Chapter 4

I took my seat beside the girls who had already begun eating.  They weren’t dressed like the rest of the tankers from Ooarai. 

 

The girls from Hippo Team wore several items over their regular uniform.  The girl nicknamed Erwin had short blonde hair had a trench coat and a general’s cap with a golden eagle and laurels on the front.  Caesar had short wavy brown hair and purple-ish eyes and around her shoulders she wrapped a crimson scarf.  Saemonza was a pretty girl with long, straight hazel hair that reached her upper back which she kept from hiding her brown eyes with a headband decorated with six golden rings.  Covering her chest was a leather cover, which I assumed was a form of armour from feudal Japan.  Oryou was a quiet girl with short scruffy black hair and grey eyes hidden behind a pair of glasses with a red bottom frame.  She draped a black linen jacket, which she told me was commonly worn by the upper class during the Meiji era, and on the sleeves were small crests of a flower.

 

With the girls of the History Club was the fit and fun volleyball team.  They shirked their school uniforms in favour of their gym clothes, a red and white jersey with a large red collar and red shorts.  Their captain Noriko Isobe was a short lass, with boyish brown hair that matched her determined eyes.  She wore a different team uniform than her mates, a white t-shirt with red trim along the collar and sleeves and the standard red shorts.  True to her appearance, Noriko was a bit of a tomboy.  Shinobu Kawanishi was probably the easiest to recognize since she was the tallest of the team.  She kept her light brown hair in a short pony tail with a few bangs swept to the side to show off her hazel eyes.  Her serious eyes were contradicted by her warm and humorous speech.  The tight volleyball uniform fit snuggly and showed off the curves of the final two members, Taeko Kondou and Akebi Sasaki.  Teako was a sweet girl with strange coloured hair, a sort of pink-purple and like the rest of the team had glistening brown eyes.  Akebi was something else entirely.  She had stunning long golden blond hair held back by a cute white headband and tied into a long tail that covered her back, a lock of hair dangled in a spiral in front of her ear.  Her yellow-brown eyes kindly greet you with her cheerful smile.

 

“Captain Walker” said Erwin, “We’d like to ask you something.”

 

I took a gulp of water, “Shoot.”

 

“Why do you and the other guys have a girl’s names for a nickname?” asked Akebi.

 

“Yeah” said Shinobu, “We’ve been wondering since we met you.”

 

I chuckled heartily, “Well it’s not our names, well not exactly anyway.  They’re our plane’s names.  Kind of like how you’re tanks are called Duck and Hippo.”

 

Noriko lightly punched Taeko on the shoulder, “Told you it had nothing to do with a girlfriend.”

 

“Mind if I ask how you got yours?” I said to the Hippo team, “No offense, but Caesar isn’t a common name.”

 

“They’re our soul names” said Caesar, “The names just seemed to fit us.”

 

“They’re names also reflect what era of history they love” said Shinobou.

 

“No nicknames for you, girls?” I asked the volleyball club.

 

“No, not yet anyway” replied Shinobu, “Kind of hard to think of nicknames for a volleyball team.”

 

“What do you think lassies?  Can you come up with some soul names for Duck Team?” I asked Hippo Team.

 

“Hmmm” said Erwin thinking deeply, “That’s an interesting idea.”

 

“We shall find your names” said Oryou entering deep thought.

 

“In due time” added Saemonza closing her eyes.

 

“But rest assured, we will find them” said Caesar joining the storm of thought.

 

“Umm, girls?” I said waving my hand in front of their faces.

 

“Don’t worry” said Akebi, “They’ll snap out of it.”

 

“In due time” mimicked Taeko.

 

“So, girls, when’s your next game?” I asked, “I’d like to cheer you on.”

 

“We don’t have any games in the near future” said Shinobu pushing vegetables around the plate.

 

“Our club was disbanded last year” said Akebi with a small, sad smile.

 

“Oh, umm” I stammered, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to –“

 

“But we’ll get it back!  Because we have fighting spirit!” said Noriko pumping her fist into the air.

 

“Fighting spirit!” cheered the rest of the team.

 

“Cheers!” I said.

 

The evening went by splendidly.  After dinner we rode with the girls back to Ooarai and send our good-byes before driving back to our rooms.  I jiggled the key in the lock, opened the door, and turned on the lock.  My apartment was pretty simple, a dark carpet for the living space and linoleum tile for the kitchen.  My bedroom was tucked away in the corner with a small, but comfortable bed, a simple desk and a bookshelf filled with unopened literature text books.  The long day of travel back and forth between the ships had tired me a fair bit.  I tossed my jacket on the chair and collapsed on the bed and went to sleep, ignoring the open books under the desk light.

 

“I hope you’ve had a pleasant day” said Billy.

 

“Now let us begin the exercise” finished Willy, “Gentlemen, and ladies, to your starting positions.”

 

We had gathered in a clearing in the foothills of a mountain.  Our planes and tanks were lined along the grass.  At the words of my student council the engines roared sputtered to life.  The tanks clunked along the dirt lumbering every which way to their starting positions.  One by one our planes rose into the sky under the control and guidance of Relay.  Relay sat at a table with several radios and a map spread across its top.  He had a small grin as he listened to all the talk going back and forth between the tanker and pilots during the opening lull.  The great Lancaster, filled with small bombs, was the first to take to the skies, followed by each of the fighters laden with a bomb under each wing.  As I sat in my cockpit quickly checking the instruments, I spied the Type 89 rolling by the fighters.  I jumped out of my fighter and waved down the tank.  Shinobu carefully brought the tank to a gentle stop.  The team poked their heads out of the hatches and smiled.

 

I climbed on the tank’s deck, “Just wanted to wish you good luck.  I’ll keep the skies clear for you.”

 

“Thanks!” said Noriko, “Good luck, and fighting spirit!”

 

“Fighting spirit!” cheered the tank crew.

 

“We might need your help with the bigger tanks” said Akebi, “Even with fighting spirit our gun can’t take them all on.”

 

“We’ll work closely with Duck Team Team” said Erwin, “But Akebi is right, we might need to call you.”

 

“You have my frequency.  Call me when you need me to bring down the thunder.  On second thought, just call me.” I winked at the girls.

 

Taeko giggled, “I’ll certainly keep that in mind.  Now go on out of here, we need to get to our starting position and you need to go into the wild blue yonder.”

 

I jumped off the tank, gave them a wave, and watched them roll off the field.  Ashley’s Hurricane was just getting off the ground when I started rolling down the strip.

 

_It’s ten minutes to three thousand meters._

 

The sky was a brilliant blue without a cloud in the sky.  Beneath the infinite dome was a winding path of crystal clear water amid various shades of green.  Far to the north was a grey-blue mountain capped with snow. 

 

“Ooarai is in ready to begin” said Relay, “Pilots report status.”

 

“Sugar’s Blues reporting ready” I said.

 

“All units, all units” announced Relay, “Match begins in 5… 4…  3…  2…  1!  Go!”

 

I banked the Spitfire and flew toward the Duck and Hippo Teams’ starting position.  As I streaked across the sky my eyes kept a vigilant watch for the squadron.

 

“Sugar Blues to tanks” I said, “Do you read me?”

 

“Roger!” replied Erwin.

 

“We read you just fine” said Taeko.

 

“Excellent” I said, “I’ve got a pair of bombs waiting for you to call them, but I’ve only got one shot so make it count.”

 

“Understood” they said.

 

My lonely patrol was uninterrupted for several minutes.  Below I could faintly see dirt being tossed up by the tracks. 

 

_Wait, what’s that?_

 

I squinted down toward the earth where a small black spec crept over the canopy.  As the spec moved three small clouds burst from the earth.

 

_Must be the Lancaster.  Where are the fighters?  Ah, there’s two._

 

I pointed the plane toward the conflict.  As I drew closer yellow tracers spewed from the Lancaster following the two fighters.  The other aircraft buzzed around the lumbering bomber firing short controlled bursts.  The exchanges of tracers between the combatants were like a dragons breathing flame.

 

_Gotta be quick._

 

I pushed my nose down and dove into the centre of the storm.  A quick glance: two Typhoons and the Lancaster.  The Spitfire cruised across the wingspan of the Lancaster before streaking away.  I turned in my seat and was relieved to see none gave chase. 

 

_Better to let them shoot each other down.  I’ll pick off the ones that are left._

 

A streak of orange cannon flew over my cockpit.  On instinct I flipped the plane and fell into a downward spiral.  I cranked my head backward to get a glance of my attacker, another Typhoon.  I hit the rudders and elevators while cutting back the throttle.  The Spitfire turned on a dime, the Typhoon tried to compensate but overshot.  I started a climb only to be greeted by his wingman’s cannons blazing.  I forced the plane’s nose straight up narrowly avoiding the devastating burst.

 

_Great, the first few minutes in and I’ve gotta deal with a two on one._

“Sugar’s Blues, we need a hand!” radioed Taeko, “We’re getting attacked by Mallard and Anteater!”

 

“We’re holding them off for now, but I don’t think we can take a lot more” added Erwin.

 

“I’m busy up here, bah!” I replied dodging the fighters, “You’ll have to handle it.  Sorry.”

 

“Turn the tank around, we can’t fight them” said Noriko in the background.

 

“Cover the Type 89, we’ll follow after” said Erwin.

 

_I have to deal with them quickly._

 

The first Typhoon was dashing at my back while his partner climbed away.  I put the rudder to the left, the Spitfire spun like a Frisbee.  When I had come about my foe was right in my face.  I pressed the trigger and rained fire upon him.  His orange blaze spewed from the cannon, but before the burst could complete, relieving black smoke poured out of his tail.  My rounds had found their mark in his engine while his put a couple dents in my left wing.  Before I could congratulate myself I rolled the Spitfire and banked to the right to avoid the incoming attack.

 

_Damn!  He’s got the energy and speed advantage._

 

The Lancaster was still fighting against its attackers as it made its way to the growing conflict on the ground.  I sped to the Lancaster dragging the Typhoon with me.

 

_This’ll be risky._

 

I bobbed the plane back and forth as we approached the other bandits.  I flew through where the fighting was thickest.  Small machine gun and heavier cannon crossed all over my plane, but through a miracle I only sustained a few minor hits along the fuselage, my pursuant was less fortunate.  The gunners swung to attack me and the other fighters dove together to strike the engines.  The crossfire tore the attacker to shreds forcing him to withdraw from the battle.  A second plane trailed a long black tail as the Lancaster scored its first.

 

I wasted no time in escaping the fire fight and lowering myself to tree top level.  I could see the Tiger perched on a hill waiting for targets to come into range.  A formation of two tanks rolled across a plain with vigor, while a grey tank scurried into the woods.

 

“Attention all units” said Relay, “Status update: Checkmate Cathie, Smilin’ Susie, Memphis Belle and Peacock Paulie have been shot down.  Rabbit Team and Mallard Team have been knocked out.  ”

 

“Sugar’s Blues to tanks” I said, “I’ve dealt with my little problem.  Where do you want the strike?”    

 

“We need you to take Leopon Team, they’re on a hill” reported Erwin, “We can’t advance until… Ahh!”

 

The sound of a large bomb burst through the earpiece.  The Lancaster climbed into the air, two engines had died, but it was still serviceable. 

 

“Are you alright?  What happened?” I asked.

 

“The Lancaster got us” replied Erwin, “The tank’s knocked out but we’re okay.”

 

“Duck Team, did it get you too?”

 

“We’re okay” said Taeko with a few short breaths, “They just missed us.  That was a really big rocking though.”

 

“I’m going for Leopon, good luck!”

 

“You too.”

 

I darted across the battlefield to the Lion’s Hill.  The massive turret slowly traversed and fired a burst of machine gun fire in my direction trying to score a lucky hit.  I climbed then dived toward the tank as it slid down the hill.  The green grass of the hillside drew closer and closer, I could release the bomb and hope for the best but Duck was counting on me.  A stream of machine gun fire struck my wings like pebbles hitting sheet metal.  Behind me were Leopon’s defenders: Nolan Coventry and Ashley Waters.

 

_I need to get the Tiger-P first.  Stay in one piece Sugar, just for a little longer._

 

One hundred meters above the target the Spitfire dropped two 250lbs bombs of fury on the Tiger.  The explosion pushed the plane as it pulled out of the dive.  The Hurricanes stayed on my tail, breaking into and out of formation.  The three planes bobbed from left to right as I used my powerful engine to gain speed.

 

_Let’s see if they’ve learned anything._

 

Sugar’s Blues led me straight up into the sky.  Nolan didn’t hesitate in following.  Ashley rose for a few meters levelled, rose again and levelled several times before deciding to speed off to the south.  The two fighters soared into the heavens as if they wanted to reach the edge of space. 

 

_I need to level out.  Let’s see what he’s learned._

 

The Spitfire perfectly executed an Immelmann.  Blood rushed to my head as the plane hurried toward the earth.  Lo and behold, Nolan had learned little over the past weeks.  He didn’t stall, but he levelled too late.  The Hurricane was barely moving in level flight.  I shook my head and closed quickly on his tail.  Nolan rolled the plane and tried to bank left and right but all his energy had been wasted in the climb.

 

_Rudder, kid, rudder.  *Sigh*  Might as well end this._

 

I closed to 150 meters and let out a burst for one second.  All the rounds converged and sparked on his tail, and too his great disappointment I’m sure, the infamous black smoke signalled his defeat.  Ashley loosed a few rounds from below clattering against my wings.  Utilizing an S-turn the Spitfire quickly changed direction to face the Hurricane’s belly.  Another burst, another shot down.

 

_Huh, they got some good hits in, the ailerons aren’t as responsive._  

 

“Sugar’s Blues to Duck, the Tiger is gone.”

 

“Duck to Sugar’s Blues, thanks but we’re kind of busy right now.”

 

“Attention all units, status update: Regal Seagull, Lady Luck, Bomber Babes, Nolan Coventry and Ashley Waters have been shot down.  Hippo, Leopon, and Anteater have been knocked out” reported Relay.

 

_It’s only Lilly and me now._

 

The Spitfire coasted above the battlefield as I watched the tanks scurry.  The Panzer IV performed maneuvers I didn’t think was possible.  The tank crossed the country with amazing speed, turning and halting as if it had a mind of its own.  As soon as the tank halted the cannon barrel flashed in quick succession.

 

I spied the Type 89 trying to drive circles around the Panzer at long.  A few shots fired from the move landed all around throwing up dirt and mud.  Suddenly from behind the crest of a hill a small tank rushed toward my comrades.

 

“Duck!  You’ve got one on your tail!”

 

The enemy tank drove straight at Duck Team and ground to a halt just a few meters away.  A flare flashed from the barrel like lighting, the shell burst in a cloud of smoke and dust.  To my amazement the shot had flown passed the turret and found rest in the earth nearby.  The Type 89 traversed its turret and with a one shot eliminated its assailant.

 

“Whew!  You’re a bunch of luck ladies.”

 

“We were just lucky Momo was shooting” said Taeko, “Can you bomb Anglerfish team?”

 

“Negative.  I’ll need to go back to base and resupply, but there’s another fighter in the air.”

 

And with those words bullets raked the side of my fuselage.  I caught a quick glance at my attacker. Piccadilly Lilly taunted Sugar’s Blues as she flew by.  I turned and moved to intercept, the movements more clunky and stiff.  Piccadilly swung back around and renewed his attack; I narrowly avoided the deadly stream.  We turned and banked into each other, weaving in and out like a pair of shoe laces, Lilly over me, me over Lilly.  We climbed and dived over each other like scissors, and rolled and banked swirling around in perfect synchronization.  No matter what maneuver we used the other would match it perfectly like the reflection in a mirror.

 

_I need to break off and take him head on._

 

Our weave was about to close.  We came to within meters of each other and stared at each other through the protective glass.  I leveled the plane and pushed the throttle to war emergency power.  The engine roared like a flying tiger and the burst of power pushed me back.  Piccadilly Lilly had the same notion and hurried away.

 

_Three… two… one!_

 

The Spitfires charged each other like bulls seeing red.  Five hundred meters, my thumb stiffened against the trigger.  Four hundred meters, my heart began to race and adrenaline surged.  Three hundred meters, machine guns rattled and cannons boomed, a flurry of tracers streaked across the sky.  Two hundred meters, the bullets crashed against the metal frame and ricocheted off the glass in a storm of sparks as the controls stiffened and locked.  One hundred and fifty meters, I let out a battle cry as the final shots impacted.  The controls released and the planes broke off.  A long trail of smoke followed my acrobatics.

 

_Damn!_

 

A scream over the radio.

 

“Sorry Sugar’s, we got hit.”

 

“Same here girls, sorry.  You did a damn good job though.  I’ll see you back at base.”

 

I hung my head and flew home in silence trailing my shame.  A grey shape pulled alongside me and rocked its wings.  Piccadilly Lilly gave me a salute and took his place in the formation.  He was trailing black smoke as well.

 

“Attention all units” said Relay, “Sugar’s Blues, and Piccadilly Lilly have been shot down.  Turtle Team and Duck Team have been knocked out.  Congratulations Anglerfish, you’re the last team standing well done.  And shame on all the pilots, you all got shot down!”

 

“Shut up, Relay” said Piccadilly with a laugh, “If we all ganged up on Sugar’s Blues we’d ‘ve had a chance.”

 

“Oh, yeah, a chance to line up and fall one at a time” I replied.

 

Back at the base all the planes had safely returned and the tanks were being rolled off the large flatbed trucks.  The lassies were had a smattering of dirt on their cheeks and a slight glistening of sweat beading on the brow.  The tanks were covered in dents and scorch marks, some had metal corners torn off, others had tracks removed.  The planes were covered in dimples, scratches, and dents.  A few had a couple harmless holes punched through the edges.

 

_We’ll have to apply an extra coat of the protective laminate._

 

I spied Duck Team playing in the grass, tossing volleyball to each other.  Hippo Team was nearby having a little conversation.

 

“Hello girls” I waved as I approached.

 

“Good afternoon” they said.

 

“Captain Walker,” said Oryou, “I must say your flying was amazing.”

 

“Indeed,” said Caesar, “You looked like the Golden Eagle leading the legions of Rome.”

 

”No, he was like an arrow loosed from the Hama Yumi[1] striking down the demon” said Saemonza.

[[1] The Hama Yumi (Evil-Destroying Bow) is a Japanese bow.  In legend it is said the bow vanquished a demon that haunted the Imperial Palace.]

 

“He was George Beurling at the Siege of Malta” said Erwin with a satisfied look and arms crossed.

 

“That’s it!” said the others enthusiastically.

 

“And how are you girls?” I asked the volleyball team.

 

“We’re good” said Akebi, “I’m sorry we didn’t win.”

 

“Don’t worry, we’ll win next time” I said, “Besides you’ve got fighting spirit!”

 

“Fighting spirit!” cheered Noriko, “Be the way, nice flying Sugar’s.”

 

“Thanks” I said, “You’re tank had some nice moves as well.  Shinobu, you’re an excellent driver.  And good hit on the other tank, Akebi.”

 

“Ladies and gentlemen” called Billy, “I would like to say bravo on a brilliant fight and congratulations to our victors, Anglerfish Team and their pilots.  Now for a few words more –“

 

“What’s the prize?” hollered Memphis Belle getting a small applause.

 

Billy cleared his throat and straightened his tie, “Ahem, well, yes.  Willy, if you please.”

 

“A month’s supply of jellied eels!” said Willy revealing boxes upon boxes of the horrid food.

 

“They won Billy!  Why are you giving them the loser’s punishment?” hollered Piccadilly Lilly.

 

“That’s President Billy to you!”

 

“I can’t think of anything more horrible than jellied eels,” said Smilin’ Susie, “Now haggis.  That’s a dish worth winning.”

 

“That’s just as bad” said Peacock Paulie.

 

Ooarai President Anzu stood in front of the crowd, “Congratulations!  As for the rest of us, it’s time for the Anglerfish Dance!”

 

The girls all groaned and shuffled away with heads hung. 

 

“Wait for me” I said following the crowd.

 

Akebi ran her hand through her hair and looked at me with slightly perplexed, “Why are you coming?”

 

“I lost too, so I have to the dance as well I suppose” I replied with a smirk, “It is only fair.  You’ll have to teach it to me quickly though.”

 

“You sure?” asked Shinobu.

 

“It’s quite embarrassing” said Taeko.

 

“I’m sure.  And don’t worry about me, I’ll dance it so well it’ll be the next craze” I said confidently.

 

“That’s the spirit!” said Noriko.

 

“Fighting spirit?” I asked.

 

“Fighting spirit!” they cheered.

 

I unlocked the door and turned on the light.  The plain room was a welcome sight after the travesty of the penalty dance.  The rubbery form of the suit was horrendously uncomfortable, squeezing every inch of my body.  I pulled off the tight cap by the yellow ball and threw it carelessly on the table.  The white light of the fridge stirred my appetite.

 

_Damn, I forgot to prepare dinner.  Ugh, do I go out or try to cook?_

 

A light rapping against the door broke the internal debate.  A pleasant surprise stood in the hall with the answer to my prayers.  Akebi and Taeko smiled in their PE clothes holding a bag of groceries and with them was Miho Nishizumi with her gentle face.

 

“Hello” I said, “Please, come in.”

 

“Thank you” said Miho, “Wow, your home is so big.”

 

“Why can’t our dorms be like this?” asked Akebi admiring the room.

 

“If I’d known there’d be company I would have cleaned up” I said picking up a few books, “Can I get you anything?  A drink perhaps?  What?  What is it?””

 

The two girls stared at me with blank expressions.  It took several moments before I realized the embarrassing reality.  I was still wearing the pink monstrosity.

 

“Why are you still wearing that?” asked Akebi.

 

“Would you believe that I find it comfortable?”

 

“Not in the least” said Taeko.

 

“I’m really sorry you had to do dance in that” said Miho.

 

“Oh, it was nothing” I said pulling on the stretchy fabric, “If you don’t mind me asking, why the visit?”

 

Akebi covered her eyes, “We came by to thank you.  Noriko and Shinobu wanted to come too, but they had some things to attend to.”

 

“The Student Council asked me to meet with you about the upcoming matches” said Miho, “And would you mind changing somewhere else?”

 

“Ah!  Sorry” I said covering myself back up, “Please help yourself to anything, I’ll be back in a moment.”

 

When I returned the ladies were already preparing a meal.  Taeko and Akebi were chopping vegetables while Miho was stirring the pot.  The smell was amazing, a mix of spices and sauces I’ve never smelled before.  While they worked I set the table with a simple set of utensils.  The wait was well worth it.  A delicious meal of chicken, vegetables, and rice waited for us on the table.

“That was delicious.  Thank you.”

 

“I’m glad you liked it” Taeko grinned.

 

“So, we were wondering about a couple of things about the White Knights” said Miho.

 

“The thing is…” began Akebi nervously.

 

“You haven’t heard of us, have you?” I took a sip.

 

They shook their heads, my heart sunk.

 

I sighed, “Well that’s not surprising, and we haven’t done anything memorable in the past five years or so.”

 

“But you’re a great pilot” said Miho, “We all saw you.”

 

“Yeah” said Taeko, “You were looping and weaving and turning like it was second nature.”

 

“You should have seen the old boys” I drifted into a memory of old film reels, “They did things almost impossible to imagine.  They won championship after championship, and now they’re us.  Bit of a shame to be called a White Knight now.  Let’s talk about something else; you don’t want to be bored by old memories.  You won your first championship in your first year.  That’s quite an amazing feat.”

 

“It was all thanks to Miho” said Akebi.

 

“Oh, no, it was all of us” said Miho, “If it weren’t for my friends I don’t think I would’ve had the heart.”

 

“You’re too modest, Miho” said Taeko.

 

“Did you use the famous Nishizumi Style I’ve heard about?”

 

“She used Miho-style tankery.”

 

“Oh, really?”

 

Miho smiled nervously, “Well it’s not really a style.”

 

Akebi smiled, “It’s not about winning with her.”

 

“It’s about friends” said Miho, “That’s my tankery.”

 

I nodded.

 

“Thank you for a great evening” said Akebi pushing her hair around her ear.

 

“Thank you for your visit.  It really made my day.”

 

“See you.”

 

“I’ll see you at the strategy meeting tomorrow” said Miho walking out the door.

 

“Miho” I said softly, “How did you do it?  Finding your own tankery, I mean.  You gave up all that history of victory and glory in Kuromorimine.”

 

Miho’s eyes dropped for a moment as she thought, “Well, I wanted my own way, I guess.  I didn’t want to have to live up to everything my sister and mother built.  I wanted to leave tankery, but Ooarai gave me something I didn’t expect.”

 

“A championship?”

 

“A new start.”

 

_A new start.  Our legacy.  A wing and a prayer.  There’ll be bluebirds over the White Cliffs of Dover.  They used to score in the forties.  A five year slump. A new start.  Our legacy.  Wing and a prayer.  There’ll be bluebirds.  You should have seen the old boys.  Five year slump.  New start.  Our legacy.  Wing and a prayer.  Bluebirds._

 

I woke in a cold sweat, “I know what needs to happen.”

 


	5. Chapter 5

The sun had not even thought of cracking over the horizon when I stood on the train platform.  I carried my book bag filled with the texts for the day, my laptop, and a bunch of messages for the other departments.  In the dim twilight I fumbled about for my keys and unlocked the lounge door.  The sacred scoreboard hung proudly above the pool table.  I opened my laptop and quickly spliced together a few images and hastily composed an email. 

 

_Okay, now to tidy this place up._

 

“That’s it for today, gentlemen” said the teacher, “Remember we begin Romeo and Juliet tomorrow and Midsummer Night’s Dream right after so bring the right texts.  I’m looking at you James.  Good day.”

 

“Hey Cap, you alright?” asked Piccadilly, “You seem kind of out of it.”

 

I yawned, “I was up early so I didn’t sleep much.  The boredom of literature doesn’t help either.”

 

“What were you doing up so early?”

 

“Something that will change our team entirely, for better, or worse.”

 

Piccadilly stopped me just outside the main doors, “What did you do?”

 

“You’ll see when we get there” I said with a straight face. 

 

The squadron was gathered outside the lounge murmuring amongst each other.  Nolan fiddled with the door, good thing I locked it up last night.  To them this was a normal day, spirits were high and the weather was clear and warm.  The unit patch of the White Knights shone brightly, my patch of shame.

 

I approached and unlocked the door, “Gentlemen.”

 

“Captain” they quickly saluted.

 

The squadron funnelled into the room.  Horror melted their face when they gazed upon the scoreboard.  Their names were still listed in bold letters, but the scores were blank.  The marks they fought so hard to earn had been wiped away.  The sigil of the White Knight that adorned the blackboard in coloured chalk was hidden beneath a blue cloth.

 

“Captain!” said Memphis shocked, “Someone’s vandalized our lounge!  Our scores, they’re gone.”

 

The other boys hurled question after question to me before becoming filled with anger for the vandalism.

 

_Oh, boy.  This might have been a bad idea._

 

“Take your seats, lads” I stood in front of the room, “Let me first say, the scoreboard has not been vandalized.”

 

“What are you talking about?  Of course it has, take a look at it!” said Checkmate.

 

“Gentlemen, for the past five years the White Knights have failed to win a single tournament.  Last year alone, we failed to get past the first round” I began, my heart was sinking, “For the years preceding the slump the White Knights were the envy of AirCom.  The old boys flew circles around their opponents and had scores we haven’t seen in a very long time: Shrieking Sheila, 50, Angel Eyes, 55, Hell’s Belle, 60, just to name a few.  Now look me in the eye and say we stack up to that lot.  I bet if the old lads walked through that door right now, they’d slap us silly with how we’ve been performing.”

 

“We can make it up to them, Cap” said Regal.

 

“With scores like that,” said Peacock, “One of us would have to shoot down almost every plane we meet to get even close.”

 

“And only the wing leaders and squadron leader have a chance to beat one of them” said Memphis.

 

“This explains why the other squadrons aren’t afraid of us” said Ashley, “I wonder what their scores are like.”

 

“Bah!  I say we get out there and show them that the White Knights aren’t done yet!” said Smilin’ Susie, “The Cap’s right, we need to bring back the real White Knights!”

 

“We can’t win as White Knights” I said with eyes fixed on the ground, “Not anymore.”

 

“So we’re giving up before we even take the chance” protested Piccadilly.

 

“Gentlemen, stand up and grip the squadron patch” I waited for them to comply, “Now rip them off.  Do it!”

 

The lads hesitated, almost refusing, but one by one the patches fell off.  It was like ripping of a bandage and rubbing salt into a gaping wound.  The squadron glared at me, but I wasn’t sure if it was because of my actions or because I made them realize their shame.

 

“Gentlemen, the era of the White Knights is over” I grabbed the cloth covering the board, “From now on, we are Bluebird Squadron.”

 

I pulled off the cloth to reveal our new insignia.  Superimposed on the RAF roundel was a majestic bluebird soaring into the sky, clenching a scroll bearing the words: A wing and a prayer.

 

“This is your new unit patch,” I grabbed a small box from the office.

 

“Captain, why?”

 

“We’re starting fresh lads.  We don’t have the burden of honoring the old White Knight name.  We don’t have to compare ourselves to those before us, or have to prove ourselves to them.  Their time has ended and their legacy will persist through the school, but now is our time.  This is a new era, this is _our_ era, and this is _our_ legacy.  Besides, since we’re starting from scratch now we can really find out who’s the real ace of the squadron.”

 

“It’s me for sure” said Lucky Lady.

 

“For your wing maybe” said Regal, “The squad’s first ace will be a Spitfire.  My Spitfire, specifically.”

 

“Oh, really?” said Smilin’ Susie, “Remember the free-for-all with Ooarai.  Who got you again?”

 

“Lucky” said Regal, “But I got you.”

 

“Heh, heh,” said Memphis, “Just wait and see a rookie will take first ace.  Right, Nolan?”

 

“Yes” he said seriously, “The title belongs to me.”

 

“Watch out lads” said Smilin’ Susie, “We got a badass over here.  Of the rooks, my bet would be on Ashley.  You’re a quick learner, kid, just gotta hone your skills a little more.”

 

“Oh, no.  It won’t be me.”

 

“You all are delusional” said Piccadilly, “This is a contest between two people: me and Sugar’s Blues.”

 

“Aye” said Melody, “You two are perfectly matched; the others don’t stand a chance.  On the bright side, Bomber Babes are the undisputed best crew.”

 

“Undisputed because there are no other crews.”

 

“It’s still the truth.”

 

“Now lads, before you all start dreaming of being the first Ace there are some new rules regarding scores” I began, “First, scores will only be tallied if we win the match, so none of this lone wolf gung-ho shoot the first thing that moves bullshit.  We fly as a squadron, not as a group of individual idiots.  Second, we’re tallying score on shot down planes only, not for bail outs or point value.  So, a squadron leader is worth the same as a regular fighter.  And thirdly, kills can be split between people, so help each other out when taking down targets.”

 

The lads smirked and nodded, excited at the chance to prove their worth to each other.

 

“Gentlemen, grab your patches and put them on.  Let’s see what Bluebirds can do.”

 

“Bluebirds!”

 

The squadron stood up and walked out the lounge talking about who would be the first ace, who was the best, and jokingly spoke about who would replace me.  The pilots took their planes high into the air and began practicing.  Well, all except myself and Piccadilly.

 

“Quite a risk you took there” said Piccadilly cracking the top of a soda can.

 

“Do you think I did the right thing?”

 

“Wasn’t much you could do” replied Piccadilly, “Between starting from scratch and being pressured by the past, I prefer starting again.”

 

“But what do the others think?”

 

“You were in the room.  Heck, you’re the guy that saw everyone’s face; the answer should’ve been right in front of you, literally.”

 

“From what I saw some of the pressure came off and maybe there was some enthusiasm.  But you and I know that there’s one face we wear in front of the squadron leader and the other we wear when he’s nowhere to be seen.”

 

“And you’re asking me because I’m _not_ squadron leader.  Look, I’m going to tell it to you straight.  You made the right choice.  There will be some grumbling and groaning for a little bit, but their genuinely excited to crack out some records for the next squadron, and the squadron after that.  And they’re no longer feeling the pressure to fight for someone they’ve only heard about in a story.  They’re fighting for themselves, no, they’re fighting for _their_ squadron.  That’s that.”

 

“Then why do I feel like I screwed them?”

 

“Well you’re talking to the wrong person” Piccadilly took a large gulp from the can.

 

“Good day, Relay” I waved.

 

The control tower was as it always was.  The skies were clear and blue; the few clouds were like wisps of smoke fading away.  Relay was seated by the radios taking notes on a clipboard and sending messages to and fro the wings.

 

“Lucky Lady, head west from your current position.  Contacts at 3000 meters, angels mixed with bandits.  Good luck” he said into the receiver, “Good day, Captain.  Bluebird squadron is in the air and practicing escort at the moment.”

 

“Thanks for letting me know” I had a hard time finding the other words.

 

“Captain, you only come up here for a few reasons,” said Relay stacking a few pages, “and I can tell by your face that it’s not for the fun ones.  So go on and spit it out.  I promise I won’t beat you silly with my cane.”

 

“Well, with what I did… and you didn’t say a word during the meeting…” I began, “I think I screwed you over.  Y’know what I mean?”

 

“You mean my score” Relay leaned back in his seat.

 

“Yeah, it’s kind of like I erased everything you did and you won’t have a chance to get it all back.”

 

Relay sighed, “Honestly, I was a little peeved that the few marks I did earn were gone, but it’s just a score.  I’m still part of the team and I’m doing my job coordinating all the wings.  So, don’t worry about it.”

 

“It’s like I screwed you twice though.”

 

“You didn’t screw me over, mate.  And the first time wasn’t your fault.  We knew that it was risky, and we did it anyway.  And don’t worry about erasing me from the squadron, I’ve made my mark.  And you and I both know where the _real_ scores are kept.  Now, you should get going.  Miho and the others will be waiting for you.”

 

“I need Melody, too.  When will he be back?”

 

“The Babes are landing right now.”

 

With those words the bomber zoomed past the control tower and touched the ground.

 

“You’re the best.”

 

“Damn right.”

 

The ride to Ooarai was short and sweet.  Busses, trucks and ferries moved to and fro carrying people and goods as the massive school ships prepared to leave the port tomorrow morn.

 

“You guys ready?” I asked standing before the door.

 

“Yeah, but I’m not sure if we should’ve brought Smilin’ along” said Melody pointing over his shoulder, “Worst of all he’s wearing a skirt.”

 

“It’s a kilt you daft git!” stamped Smilin’ Susie, “And I’m not going to let you two keep all the ladies to yourself.  Don’t worry though, I’ll put in a good word or two for ya when they’re hanging from me arms.”

 

Melody rolled his eyes, “Right.”

 

“Here we go” I opened the door and stepped inside, “Good afternoon ladies.”

 

“Hi!” the girls said cheerfully.

 

“You’re late” scolded Momo, “The meeting was supposed to start ten minutes ago.”

 

“You’re too stiff, Momo-chan.”

 

“Don’t call me Momo-chan!”

 

“Eh, what’s ten minutes here or there” said Anzu, “What’s important is that they’re here.  So let’s get started.”

 

Momo grabbed a large number of markers in her hand and sketched on the whiteboard.  Around a small coffee table were all the tank commanders, plus Yuzu and Anzu.  On the table were several papers, I had also brought my own but they were tucked under my arm for the time being.  I glanced back at the whiteboard to see the full list of the team’s tanks and a hypothetical list of our opponent’s tanks.

 

_Shermans?_

 

“Our opponent if Saunders College High again” said Momo, “Now, from the last time we faced them we got lucky.  Kei was nice enough to reduce her numbers when she discovered they were intercepting our radio.”

 

“They won’t make the same mistake again” said Erwin.

 

“So we’ll be facing all of those tanks?” fretted Azusa, the commander of the M3.

 

Nekota, a thin girl with thick glasses, raised her hand, “Umm… how many tanks will we be facing.”

 

“The first round permits up to fifteen tanks in this tournament” said Miho, “So we’ll be outnumbered two-to-one.  If it’s anything like last time, they’ll use that to their advantage and surround us.”

 

“AirCom can keep that from happening” I interjected, “Typhoons fitted with bombs can provide close air support, but I’d rather leave that to a dedicated bomber.  Melody?”

 

“A bombing run that close to the ground won’t be a problem, but we’ll be open to attack.  We’ll also need a way to find the targets.  Our practice match pretty much killed our hopes of bombing moving targets by radio.”

 

“You’ll be dealing with their fighters too” said Yuzu, “Who will we err… you be fighting in the skies?”

 

I flipped through a few pages, “Screaming Eagles squadron under Ted “Tuskegee” Franklin.  Well this is a problem.”

 

“What do you mean?” asked Miho.

 

“Screaming Eagles are known for being the best in ground strikes.  Almost every plane they field can be strapped with bombs in one form or another.  My guess is that they would be flying P-47 Thunderbolts and a couple of P-40 Kittyhawks with bombs escorted by P-51 Mustangs.”

 

“Any suggestions on keeping them away?”

 

“Other than good fighter cover, fightin’ in a town makes it hard for fighter bombers, like me, to get ‘cha since we don’t want to crash into a building” said Smilin’ Susie.

 

“Forests are better” added Melody, “We can’t see through the foliage.  We still need to solve the problem of how we’re going to help you though.”

 

“Let’s go back to Saunders for now” said Erwin, “Any idea what kind of tank we’ll be facing?”

 

“We’ll probably see the same force as last time” said Miho, “Mostly 75mm Sherman tanks, but since we’ve added Leopon, I’m guessing the extra five tanks will be 76mm Shermans or Fireflies.”

 

“That’s not good” said Noriko.

 

“If we had a map, we could form a better plan” said Miho.

 

I unfolded a page as big as the white board, “They didn’t send you one of these?”

 

The commanders rose from their seats to get a closer look at the map.  The terrain was mostly favourable to Saunders.  A large open steppe with small hills, there were a couple forests but they were quite small and unsuited for a large tank battle.  There were no towns or buildings in the area save for a couple barns scattered about.  The meeting went on for several hours while we carefully planned how to capture the Saunders’ base or eliminate their ground force.  Each plan fell to a clear and present danger that made it unattainable.

 

A straight drive to the base would be feasible since the heavier tanks of Ooarai can deflect the weak guns of Saunders, but such a move would leave them open to air strike.  Despite heavy fighter cover, it was almost assured that a couple would break through.  Moving from forest to forest would protect the group from bombers, but leave them open to surrounding maneuvers by Saunders.

 

On the AirCom side, our force composition was the problem.  The wing of Spitfires would only be able to cover either the Typhoons or the bomber once the match begins.  Hurricanes could protect the other group, but the older planes would be outclassed if they encountered the Mustangs.  Spitfires and Hurricanes could attempt to intercept the enemy fighter bombers, but that would leave the tank’s support flying alone.  Despite the speed and power of the Typhoon, the heavy bombs would hinder their maneuverability and make it difficult for them to climb.  Our best bomber, the Lancaster, was durable but it will not survive a sustained assault from fighters.

 

“I think we’ve done enough for now” said Momo, “Our match is in about two weeks.  We’ll meet up again and finalize our plan.  Dismissed.”

 

The residents of the room slowly filed out.  I stared at the whiteboard and the map pondering the conundrum before us.  Melody and Smilin’ Susie went ahead, idly chatting with the girls as they went.  Wait, let me correct that.  Melody was idly chatting, Smilin’ Susie was haplessly trying to flirt and con a date.

 

“Any ideas?” asked Miho taking a place beside me.

 

“It’s a big pickle” I rubbed my chin, “The forests will give you nice cover but they’re far apart and too small right?”

 

“Yup.  But if we stay in the woods, Saunders won’t be able to come in and have to fight us in the field.”

 

“Leaving them open to a bombing attack” I said, “But even if we destroy several tanks, you’ll be open as soon as you move out.”

 

“What if you split the planes?” asked Miho, “Our tanks are pretty tough and can hold for a time.”

 

“If we split the planes, the bomber above you will be left vulnerable while the others go on and search for the fighters” My eyes widened, “But that won’t matter.”

 

Miho came to the same realization, “Because they will have already dropped their bombs.”

 

“And will be retreating to resupply.”

 

“Leaving their air cover open.”

 

I laughed and clapped my hands, “We just did in a few minutes, what our entire teams couldn’t do in a couple of hours.”

 

“Well, they did help in finding what didn’t work” giggled Miho.

 

“They sure did.  In light of our small success, how about we grab an ice cream.  There’s a little parlour down the way that looks pretty good.”

 

“If it’s the parlour I’m thinking about, you’re in for a treat.”

 

“Oh, so you’re paying then?”

 

“Oh… umm… well, I –“

 

“I’m just kidding lass, it’ll be my treat.”

 

The evening was just beginning when I reached my apartment door.  I happily whistled as I unlocked the door.  I spent the night joyfully skimming over my notes and the long plays of Romeo and Juliet and Midsummer Night’s Dream.  Late into the night I slammed the books shut and curled into my small bed, ready to greet the morning.

 

The class filed out of the room, test papers clutched in their hands.

 

“Mr. Walker, a moment please” said the teacher.

 

“Yes, sir?”

 

“As I am certain you are aware, that you’re grades in this class are less than satisfactory.  Now I am aware that your commitments to… aviation are quite important to you but they should not take priority to your studies” the teacher exhaled heavily, “Mr. Walker, I must give you this ultimatum, if you do not achieve at least a C on the major test I will pull you from AirCom.  Do I make myself clear?”

 

I ground my teeth and crumpled my test, “Crystal.”

 

I was livid when I left the classroom.  Ahead of my Willy pushed his hand against my chest.  The student council was the last thing I wanted to see after that lecture.

 

“We need to talk, Captain Walker” said Willy grabbing my arm.

 

“Make an appointment” I replied, “I’ve got a practice to run.”

 

“No, we’re talking now!” said Billy.

 

The twins grabbed me by the arms and dragged me into their office.  Billy and Willy roughly forced me into a seat and threw several folders on my lap.

 

“You know if you want people to _like_ coming into your office, you might want to try a softer hand.  A PR Advisor might be a good idea.”

 

“Funny” said Willy with a scowl.

 

“Now Captain,” said Billy pulling out several pages, “We need to have a serious talk about your expenses.  In the past five years not only has your squadron failed to win a single tourney, but your expenses have gone up well let’s just say substantially.  This creates several issues.”

 

“Your excessive use of the Universal Carriers is one such issue,” Willy began to list several problems, “Now regular maintenance, aviation fuel, food, and utilities are expected costs but for some strange reason they have gone up despite a reduction in the number of members.  Let us not even mention the miscellaneous expenses the squadron has incurred.”

 

“No, let us” said Billy, “A pool table, renovation of the officer’s lounge two years ago, additional books to the squadron library despite its lack of use, vinyl records, need I say more.”

 

“There is also the sunk costs of all the aircraft” Willy opened a small ledger, “Currently in holding and not used are: five Tempest Mk V’s, two Lancaster Bombers, three Wellington bombers –“

 

“We use one of the Wellingtons, when the mission calls for it” I said.

 

Willy looked at me from the top of the page, “Continuing on: Two _other_ Hurricane fighters, and two sp–“

 

“I get it okay.  We’ve got a lot of costs.  Here’s what we’ll do, well get rid of the library and turn it into a regular study room.  The books can go to the school library or we can sell them off.  We’ll cut down the mess hall meals and have the lads go to the cafeteria like the rest of us.  And we’ll stop using that Universal Carriers.  Alright?”

 

“It’s a start but it’s not enough” said Willy.

 

Billy folded his hands, “Mr. Walker, the reality of the situation is that the squadron is a horrible cash sink for the rest of the school ship.  Because of your rampant expenses the student council has decided –“

 

“You can’t shut us down!” I slammed my fist against the table, “Yeah we’ve got expenses, what club doesn’t?  AirCom does something the others don’t though.  We bring all the clubs together and give them practical experience.  Meteorology, mechanical, naval, hell, even the fashion guys or whatever the hell they call themselves!  When we need something we call on them and they make it happen with us!  We might not have a championship, but this is our year.  We’re getting this one with Ooarai! And –“

 

Billy raised his hand to silence me, “We’re not shutting you down just yet.  The student council has decided that you have until the end of the tournament to get more team members.  Having more members means we can justify your costs, to be put simply.”

 

“How many people do I need?”

 

“Forty members, total.”

 

“Forty?!  We only have fifteen.  Where am I going to find twenty five more members?”

 

“This is the best we can do.  Consider yourself lucky we’ve given you this chance” said Willy.

 

“I hope you understand everything.  Is it all clear?” asked Billy.

 

“Crystal.”

 

Steam fumed from out my ears when I exited the office.  Across the hall Piccadilly, Memphis, Lucky, and Regal were all waiting with concerned looks on their faces.

 

“Hell, Captain” said Memphis, “You look like you went through the ringer.”

 

“What did the student council want?” asked Regal.

 

“Does it have to do with the squadron?” asked Lucky.

 

“Is everything alright?” asked Lilly.

 

I painted on a grin, “Just a battle of the pencils, lads.  I may be the best in the skies, but on the desk I couldn’t save my life.”

 

“Well, let’s get the bad news out of the way then” said Memphis.

 

“You can’t drive our carriers anymore” I said, “Apparently five miles per gallon is just not economical.”

 

Memphis nodded, “Well, it had a good run.  I’ll bring it out only on special occasions.”

 

“Wait, the Cap’s look says there’s more” said Regal.

 

“Oh, boy.  How unlucky are we?” said Lucky.

 

“The library will have to be a study space now and all the books will go to the school library.”

 

“And?”

 

“We’ll have to eat in the cafeteria like the rest of the students.  The school won’t spend money to cook the same crap in our mess hall anymore.  We can still use it for our own cooking though.”

 

“Crap still tastes like crap where ever it is” said Piccadilly, “Of course, if Smilin’ is cooking I’d definitely make the trip to the cafeteria.  If that’s everything, then I say we came out pretty much unscathed.”

 

“Aye” said Regal

 

“Well, let’s head to the cafeteria for some grub then” said Memphis.

 

I didn’t dare to even hint about the dread on the horizon.  To even speak of such a possibility after we wiped away the old shame would devastate morale.  I remembered the crumpled test and stared at the red marks across the pages.  On a bulletin board a news spread bore the headline: “White Knights become Bluebirds!  Hopes for a win pinned on a wing and a prayer!”

 

 

 

 


	6. Ou Taiga's Ooarai Free Press

“Hello everyone, I’m Ou Taiga reporting from Excalibur Commonwealth Academy the home of Bluebird Squadron.  These flyboys will have been partnered up with our very own Ooarai Tankery Team and we’re here today to meet the illustrious members of the Bluebirds.  Captain Walker, how are you today?”

 

“How did you get on this ship?  How did you get in my office?” asked Sugar’s Blues.

 

“Charter helicopter.  And through the door.”

 

“But the door was locked,” whimpered Sugar’s Blues.

 

“Anyway, we’re here to talk about you.  The girls of Ooarai want to know everything about the leader of Bluebird Squadron.  So Captain Walker, tell us about yourself.”

 

“Uhhh… okay…  Hello, I’m Johnathan Walker, squadron leader of Bluebird Squadron.  I’m a Cockney from London.  I like Pina coladas and long walks on the beach, I don’t know, what do you want to know?”

 

“Well let’s start with the obvious.  What are your responsibilities as squadron leader?”

 

“Pretty much everything.  I run training and class instruction with the wing leaders, manage all the paperwork and deal with the student council, keep track of pilot scores and discipline them when needed, I’m also the de facto PR agent for the squadron, and I also have to plan and lead missions.  There are probably a bunch of other things I do, but its second nature now so I don’t really notice it anymore.”

 

“That’s a lot of responsibility.  Johnny, our viewers want to know what do you fly and what it’s like being so high above?”

 

“I fly a Spitfire Mk IX right now and I tell you there’s nothing like soaring above the earth.  From 3000 meters up you can see everything, cities, mountains, valleys, meadows, they’re all just beautiful from up there.”

 

“And how about combat?”

 

“Well that’s a little tougher.  All the maneuvering really takes a toll on your body.”

 

“In what ways, Captain?”

 

“Well when a plane does a really hard turn like the ones we do your body starts to feel heavier or lighter from all the g-forces.  Blood will rush to and from your head.  A lot of the pilots have blacked out at least a few times in their career.  We’re kind of lucky that no one has lost consciousness... yet.”

 

“Blackouts and loss of consciousness, sounds dangerous.  How do pilots deal with it?”

 

“Well, levelling out of a turn will help stop blood rush but that’s not the best way.  Believe it or not clenching and holding a deep breath keeps your vision clear for a bit and you can stay in the turn.”

 

“You must be really fit then.”

 

“We do exercise to keep fit.”

 

“Really, and what do you do?”

 

“Running mostly, I do about five kilometers every two days depending on the weather.  Some cycling too if the mood hits me.”

 

“You must have amazing legs.  Mind taking off your pants?”

 

“I’m sorry?”

 

“So, AirCom has its own rules and regulations just like tankery.  Can you describe how a regular match goes?”

 

“Well it depends on the mission we get.  From what I understand tankery uses only the flag tank rules in tournaments.  AirCom tournaments are based on scores and finishing objectives.”

 

“So AirCom has different missions even in a single tournament?  How does that work?”

 

“Each level of the tournament performs a certain mission based on random draw.  So for example the first bracket can be a patrol, second bracket can be ground strike, and the third can be bomber escort.  For all missions though, points are scored for shooting down enemy planes and completing the objective.”

 

“Can you describe each of the mission types?”

 

“Sure.  Patrol is a simple battle between squadrons, whoever scores the most points by shooting down planes wins.  Ground strike involves attacking a series of stationary targets all over a battlefield.  Bomber escort has both squadrons attempt to protect their bomber and intercept the other before it reaches the target zone.  In this mission, once all the enemy bombers are eliminated, the team wins regardless of score.”

 

“So the squadron must be prepared for any circumstance.”

 

“That’s right.”

 

“With all this air combat going on, how does it look from the spectators point of view?”

 

“With great annoyance on the pilots’ side,” sighed Johnny, “AirCom sends up two to four observer aircraft, helicopters to be specific, which stick to the various wings of the squadron to record and show the fight.  Damn things are annoying, but we learned to work around them.  Our gun cameras, the things we use to confirm who scored what, are also linked into the visual feeds so the spectators can see thing from our point of view.  It’s overly complicated. I mean they can just look up.”

 

“I just have a couple more questions for you.  Captain, what’s your favourite flower?”

 

“I’d have to say the poppy… I guess.”

 

“What’s your favourite plane?”

 

“Spitfire, all models.”

 

“And finally, the girls of Ooarai want to know are you single?”

 

“Ha, ha, ha.  Do the girls of Ooarai want to know or Saori?”

 

* * *

 

“I’m here now with the Wing Leaders of Bluebird Squadron, Lucky Lady and Piccadilly Lilly.  Gentlemen, first question, what are your real names?”

 

“Captain, what’s going on?” asked Lilly.

 

“This is an interview” said Taiga.

 

“Just play along lads, apparently the girls of Ooarai want to know about us.”

 

“Well, couldn’t hurt” said Lucky, “Hello, I’m Richard Sharpe but everyone just calls me Lucky or Lucky Lady.  I’m from Yorkshire if you’re wondering about the accent.”

 

“Hi, Peter Lewis here.  My call sign is Piccadilly Lilly and as you’ve probably guessed I’m from London.”

 

“Gentlemen, what’s it like being a wing leader?”

 

“Pretty good actually.  Lots of benefits, dental, health care, secret pool, first pick on desert.  You know the simple things” joked Lucky.

 

“It’s a lot of responsibility.  We’re the ones that lead the fighters when Sugar’s Blues isn’t around or if he got shot down.  We also run training and classroom lessons with him” said Piccadilly.

 

“We’re pretty much the Cap’s right hand men” said Lucky, “He gets easily bogged down with all the work and such so we give him a hand when we can.”

 

“What planes do you fly?”

 

“I lead the Spitfire wing” said Piccadilly.

 

“Typhoons” said Lucky.

 

“So the captain was saying that flying planes is very demanding physically.  What do you do to stay fit?”

 

“Simple things for me.  Jumping jacks, push ups, crunches, just a basic workout everyday” said Lilly.

 

“The school’s got a pool so I swim laps,” said Piccadilly.

 

“Mind if we see the results of your training?”

 

“I’m sorry?” they said.

 

 “Take of your shirts.”

 

“I beg your pardon?” they said.

 

“Ahem.  This is a traditional question at Ooarai, what’s your favourite flower?”

 

“Lilly, if I had to pick.  Never really thought about it honestly” said Piccadilly.

 

Lucky pondered for a moment, “I’d have to go with my county flower, harebell.”

 

“You favourite plane?”

 

“Mosquito” said Lilly.

 

“Typhoon Mk 1b” said Lucky.

 

“And finally, are you two single?”

 

“Saori wants to know, doesn’t she?”

 

* * *

 

“Alright, and now I’m here with the veteran members of Bluebird’s fighter group.  Go ahead and introduce yourselves.”

 

“Howdy, I’m Jack Daniels but folks around here call me Memphis Belle and I’m from Memphis, Tennessee.”

 

“Good day Ooarai, I’m William Cooke also known as Regal Seagull.  I’m from the port city of Bristol.”

 

“Artur Andrasko but here they call me Checkmate Cathie.  I’m from Prague, Czech Republic.”

 

“Alesky Marszalek.  Called Peacock Paulie.  Warsaw, Poland.”

 

“Smilin’ Susie here, but the ladies can call me Angus Leslie.  I’m from Edinburgh, Scotland and a damn mean cook if I do say so myself.”

 

“So gentlemen, let’s start it off easy.  What’s it like flying under Sugar’s Blues?”

 

“It’s great” said Memphis, “The man is a crack pilot and looks out for us both on and off the tourney grounds.”

 

“Indeed, he’s very free and loose when it comes to protocol so it’s easy to talk with him” said Regal, “But he does know when to be stern and harsh when needed.  Particularly when it comes to safety.”

 

“Good man.  Good pilot.  Good commander.” said Paulie.

 

“Can’t disagree with anyone here” said Checkmate, “I’d follow him to the gates of hell and back.”

 

“Aye, but none of us are stupid enough to go through the gates with him” said Susie, “I’m jokin’ lassie.  Might be a little bit harsh on Nolan though.”

 

“Now in the air it must be tough keeping everything together, how do you guys do it?”

 

“Cool head.  Clear mind” said Peacock.

 

“Buddy system” said Memphis.

 

“Wingman system to be more accurate” said Regal, “We’re all paired up with a wingman that watches our back and we watch theirs in return.”

 

“How do wingmen get assigned to each other?”

 

“Wingmen are usually assigned by people who trained together.  Nolan and Ashley are wingmen to each other because of this.  If you’re trained in a larger group like we were, people tend to naturally mesh with people they can work with” said Regal.

 

“And how about your down time?”

 

“You’ll usually find me here at the pool table” said Memphis, “I’ve made a pretty penny or two off of it.”

 

“I like to sketch, but you’ll catch me here often enough” said Regal, “I’ll shoot some billiards or toss a couple darts too.”

 

“I’ll beat you one day, Memphis, and collect interest to boot” said Smilin’ Susie, “When I’m not here I’ll be stirring up some authentic Scottish cuisine for the lads.”

 

“Which usually means we call for takeout or spend an ungodly amount of time in the lavatories” whispered Memphis.

 

“Chess” said Peacock.

 

“I keep Peacock company at the chessboard” said Checkmate, “And I usually win.  As you can see by the board right now, he’s in a bit of a pickle.”

 

Taiga glanced at the board, “Rook to F3.”

 

Peacock moved the piece, “Checkmate, Cathie.”

 

Checkmate frowned, “Yeah, and how long have you been waiting to say that one?”

 

“Gentlemen, we just have a few more questions.  What are your favourite planes and flowers?”

 

“P-51 Mustang and the iris, I guess” said Memphis, “Never had to think about my favourite flower before.”

 

“Tempest, poppy” said Peacock Paulie.

 

“I like the Beaufighter” said Checkmate Cathie, “Jasmine’s a flower right?  I like those.”

 

“Oddly enough it would be the Swordfish biplane torpedo bomber” said Regal, “As for a flower what’s that pink one that looks like a bunch of bells…uhh… foxglove, I think it’s called.”

 

“Thistle for me” said Susie, “And the old reliable Westland Welkin.”

 

“Do you guys work out?”

 

“Indeed I do lass” said Smilin’ Susie taking his shirt off, “This figure has been carved from the fire of high intensity exercise!”

 

“Well, there’s your answer” said Regal.

 

“And the girls of Ooarai want to know if any of you are single.”

 

“I have a feeling it’s more like one girl wants to know” said Memphis with a grin.

 

“Saori” said Peacock.

 

“Aye I’m single and available ladies” said Smilin’ Susie flexing, “Give me a call or give me your number and I’ll treat you right.”

 

“And one question just for you Angus.  Why are you wearing a skirt?”

 

The other lads laughed.

 

“It’s a kilt!”

 

* * *

 

“Now we have a chance to speak with the brave boys of Bomber Group, the Bomber Babes.  Would you mind introducing yourselves?”

 

“G’day.  I’m Michael Smith, bomber commander, radio operator, and gunner.  Call sign’s Melody.”

 

“Brian Badwater, bombardier and gunner.  The rest of the crew calls me Bouncing Brooke.”

 

“Dipsy Daisy, or Daniel Lewis which ever you prefer.  I’m the main pilot for the crew.”

 

“Carl Carlyle, they made me the navigator so it only made sense that they call me Compass Rose.  I also gun when needed.  Since the other boys didn’t bother to tell you, we’re all old friends from Manchester.”

 

“So why did you all decide to be bomber crew instead of fighter pilots?”

 

“We work better as a single unit rather than a bunch of individuals.  So we naturally found our place in a bomber.” said Melody.

 

“The inside of a bomber is pretty nice too” said Bouncing Brooke, “I can walk around, sit and read a magazine, even chow down on a couple of snacks while we fly too.”

 

“Would you say flying a bomber is more challenging than a fighter?”

 

“Depends on what you mean” said Dipsy, “Flying itself is pretty easy since we’re almost always in level flight.  The Lancaster flies like a tub so we don’t do fancy maneuvers like Sugar’s and the others.  Fighting though is much tougher.”

 

“Since our evasive maneuvers are clunky it’s really hard to shake off fighters.  We’re all capable gunners too, but trying to hit a target while it and you are moving is pretty difficult” said Bouncing Brooke.

 

”We’re under crewed too” said Compass, “Our Lancaster should have eight members in total, and we’re running at four.  So only three of our guns can shoot at any given time, but we still give them hell.”

 

“How’s your relationship with fighter group?  Any rivalries?”

 

“Oh we get along pretty great with fighter group” said Dipsy, “You might see us give each other crap once in a while.  ‘Hey why didn’t you stick to us?’  ‘You missed the target you gits!’  Stuff like that but it’s all in good fun.”

 

“We don’t really have a rivalry with the fighter group though” said Melody, “We tally scores differently so there’s really no way to foster it.  But as Dipsy said, we do give each other a hard time out of friendly teasing.”

 

“Do you find your roles difficult at all?”

 

“Nah, flying is pretty easy” said Dipsy, “But the other guys must get exhausted running from gun to gun.”

 

“Dipsy’s got it right” said Compass, “The hardest part is gunning since we need to run from one to the other.  Navigating can be a pain if the mission is at night otherwise it’s pretty easy.  I’m a natural at navigation.”

 

“Manning the radio isn’t too difficult.  I just wish the lads would stop making fun of my taste in music.”

 

“It’s just a gunning that’s a pain.  Releasing the bombs is the easiest thing in the world.  For me at least.”

 

“Now, I don’t know much about the old bombers, but your Lancaster seems different.  Did you make any modifications to your plane?”

 

“Aye, we made a couple modifications” said Bouncing Brooke, “I was reading a book about a B-17 bomber called Old 666.  Old 666 was a cursed plane that always came home on a wing and a prayer so to speak.  Because of this, the crew added more guns.  The damn thing was armed to the teeth as far as bombers were concerned.  So we did the same.”

 

“We added two waist gunning positions and a belly gunner for a total of six gunner positions.” said Melody, “And before you ask, this is allowed within the AirCom rules.”

 

“I’ve been talking with the fighter pilots and they say they need to keep fit in order to fly.  So, does the bomber crew do any workouts and can we see the results?”

 

“We don’t need to work out” said Brooke rolling up his sleeve, “We lift those heavy bombs over there almost every day.  That’s our exercise.  I think it’s had some results, what do you think?”

 

“Definitely.  Just a couple more questions, what’s your favourite plane?”

 

The group unanimously declared, “Lancaster!”

 

“And flower?”

 

“Roses for me” said Compass.

 

“Tulips, I guess” said Brooke.

 

“Can I say shamrock?  I’m going to say shamrocks” said Dipsy.

 

“Daffodils?  Yeah, daffodils” said Melody, “Kind of an odd question for guys.”

 

“It’s a traditional question at Ooarai.  And finally are you single?”

 

The group laughed, “Hi Saori!  Hi Rabbit Team!”

 

* * *

 

“Of course, Bluebird Squadron isn’t just old veterans.  New folks have put on the unit patch and are flying alongside those proud pilots.  I’m here with Nolan Coventry and Ashley Waters, the two newest members of Bluebirds Squadron.  How are you gentlemen?”

 

“Hello Ooarai Girl’s Academy” Ashley waved, “I’m doing well, thank you.  And if you’re wondering why I sound different from everyone else, it’s because I’m from Brooklyn, New York, USA.”

 

“Good day.  I am well” said Nolan.

 

“So why did you guys join Bluebird Squadron?”

 

“Well, I wanted to do something that I’ve never done before.  We’re aviation students, but we didn’t get a lot of practical experience so this was a good opportunity for us” said Ashley Waters.

 

“I signed up to join the White Knights, not the Bluebirds” said Nolan, “I wanted practical experience and a chance to prove my worth.  I was going to be the one to bring the White Knights out of their slump.  Since the reorganization though I won’t be able to do that.  I’ll be the first ace though.”

 

“You sound very determined.  The wing leaders and Sugar’s Blues told me that training involves both practical and classroom, what was it what you expected?”

 

“I didn’t actually expect any classroom stuff” said Ashley, “But it was actually very useful for me.  It’s easy to say do this and this and this and your plane will do that.  The classroom lectures really help illustrate what actually is happening in the skies.  The actual flying was more difficult than I had thought since the maneuvers we pull are really tough.”

 

“I agree with Ashley on the unexpected amount of classroom time” said Nolan with arms crossed, “But I think they should be scrapped.  Practical flight is all that matters in combat.  Knowing a theory or a maneuver is useless.  Actually being able to fly is all that matters.”

 

“I see.  Since your pretty new to the squadron how have the veterans been treating you?”

 

“They’re great” said Ashley, “The old guys are always willing to teach you some new things and how to get better.  They might get a little tough with you but they mean well and want you to succeed.”

 

“The veterans have had their time and their experience is useful” said Nolan, “That’s all I’ll say on that.”

 

“What do you hope to bring to the team?”

 

“Well I want to give them my best” said Ashley, “I want us to succeed and I want to be a part of that.”

 

“My skills.  I’m the best pilot here” said Nolan.

 

“Just a couple more questions:  What’s your favourite plane and flower?”

 

“I’m really starting to get attached to the Hurricane” said Ashley, “To be honest I’ve never thought of a favourite flower, may be Twinflower.”

 

“Spitfire” said Nolan, “No flower in particular.”

 

“And are you single?”

 

“Umm… yes.  Is Saori asking this question or are you?”

 

“No comment.”

 

* * *

 

“We’re here in the control tower with a man with a very important job.  Watching the air waves is Relay.  How are you today, Relay?”

 

“Hello, I’m Reginald ‘Relay’ Ramsey and I’m doing well thank you.”

 

“Mr. Ramsey, what is your role here in the control tower?”

 

“I’m the air traffic controller and squadron coordinator for the team.  My job mostly involves me listening to the radio and keeping track of who’s in the air, landing, shot down, and taking off.”

 

“Squadron coordinator?  Isn’t that Captain Walker’s job?”

 

“The Squadron Coordinator has a very different purpose than the squadron leader.  The coordinator makes sure that the wings are where they are supposed to be over the entire battlefield.  The squadron leader coordinates all the planes in his immediate area.”

 

“Would you say your job is more difficult than the captain’s?”

 

“No, I wouldn’t say that.  Making sense of all the radio messages is pretty difficult when everyone is talking, but all I need to do is contact the leaders and direct the wing to where it’s needed.  Some of the boys are on training exercises at the moment would you like to see an example of what I do?”

 

“Absolutely!”

 

“All wings report location.”

 

“Lucky reporting, we’re at point Baker 3.”

 

“Piccadilly reporting, we’re at Easy 6.”

 

“Relay to Lucky Lady, bandits moving west toward the nest, move to intercept.  Relay to Piccadily, bandits moving east to the nest, move to intercept.”

 

Lucky’s voice cracked through the radio, “Roger!”

 

Piccadilly’s voice followed, “Roger that!”

 

Relay pulled a cord to sound the alarm, “All wings scramble!  Move!  Move!  Move!  Keep your eyes on the sky Ms. Taiga, you might get a chance to see a dogfight with the entire squadron.”

 

“We’ll certainly do that.  Relay, why did you choose to become the coordinator and traffic controller of the team?”

 

“I used to be one of the fighter pilots actually.  However I mangled my leg and I couldn’t work the pedals any more.  Which is why I walk with this fancy cane.  I still wanted to be a part of the team though, so I took on this position.”

 

“Do you like it?”

 

“It gets kind of lonely up here sometimes, but the captain drops by regularly to say hello.  Yeah, I’d say I like this job, but I’d be lying if I said I didn’t miss flying.”

 

“Just a couple more questions.  First, what is your favourite plane and flower?”

 

“For a plane I’d have to say my old Spitfire.  For a flower… that’s an odd question, but I’d say the lily.”

 

“And for the girls at Ooarai, are you single?”

 

Relay laughs, “Hi Saori.  Come visit me in the control tower any time.”

 

“Ladies of Ooarai, those are the brave pilots of Bluebird Squadron, keeping the skies clear for our Tankery team below.  Their acrobatic maneuvers are the envy of the AirCom world.  Let’s wish them the best of luck in the coming matches.  Good luck!  Bluebirds!”

 

   

 


	7. Chapter 7

The school ships landed this morning in the paradise port of Honolulu.  The bright sun was beaming down on the white sand beaches.  The wind was wishfully gliding through the palm trees and over the manicured grass.  The clear, teal ocean waves lapped against the shore bringing with them a cool salty breeze.  All along the beach people basked in the perfect weather beneath parasols or frolicked in the ocean.  And here we were, stuck inside staring at a whiteboard and a map discussing plans for the approaching match.

 

“Miho, Sugar’s Blues,” said Momo, “Your plan please.”

 

“Our plan is simple,” began Miho, “At the start of the match all tanks will move into this forest here and defend our zone from Saunders.”

 

“Once Saunders engages you, the Bomber Babes should be overhead to begin an attack run.  Tanks will mark targets for airstrike.  The bombing run should eliminate all of the enemy tanks, barring that the enemy force should be weak enough to breakthrough” I said.

 

“After the bombing run, we need to run from our position straight to the next forest and repeat.  As we move we’ll need to deploy smoke to make it harder for the enemy planes.”

 

“At which point, fighter group will have intercepted and eliminated the air threat.  Typhoon wing will be free to attack enemy tanks once you arrive.”

 

“If there’ll still fighting though, we’ll have to make a decision to either hold to push through to the objective zone” finished Miho.

 

Anzu munched on a dried potato, “What’s the operation name?”

 

“Umm… Operation Leap Frog” said Miho.

 

Melody raised his hand, “Sounds like bomber group doesn’t get any cover.”

 

“That’s right” I said, “You’ll need to drop your bombs and head back to resupply and join up with us again.  Fighter group will be pushing ahead to intercept Screaming Eagles.  If we’re right, you should have a jolly time plinking tanks without seeing a single plane.”

 

“Commander, er… commanders” said Erwin, “How will we signal AirCom where the targets are?”

 

“Purple smoke” replied Miho, “We’re going to give every tank several smoke shells to mark targets with.”

 

“It’ll be easier for the air group to find targets this way.  Radio ranging doesn’t work in these cases” I said.

 

“Alright, that’s the plan then” said Momo, “Dismissed.”

 

“Let’s hit the beach!” said Azusa, “Let’s a go!”

 

The rest of the commanders cheered in approval, well except for Sodoko.  She promptly reminded us that Tankery and AirCom was still a class and not for free time.  Her nagging fell on deaf ears as the commanders grabbed their cell phones and called their team mates to the beach.  Lucky, Melody, and I followed suit to tell the team the good news.

 

_The lads will love this._

 

The scene was like something out of a movie.  Gorgeous women in various forms of swim suits were illuminated by the shining sun.  Their hair blew in the ocean breeze while the ocean spray washed over them.  It was a good thing you needed to be fit to fly a plane otherwise the lads would have been a horrific sight.

 

“Come on lads, don’t just stand there.  Let’s have some fun!”

 

Many of the boys immediately ran down the beach into the water to join the frolicking girls.  There were a few exceptions.  Peacock Paulie grabbed a book from his satchel and sat on a beach towel beside a snoozing Mako Reizei.  Ashley Waters was having a difficult time just jumping in, shy lad I guess, but he was soon pulled in by a couple of freshmen building sandcastles.  Nolan isolated himself a bit choosing to hang around the snack bar. 

 

“Alright!” said Noriko, “The net’s set up and it’s time for beach volleyball!”

 

The volleyball team cheered gave each other high fives.  Duck Team was a magnificent sight, fit varsity physique with feminine charms accentuated by their swimsuits.  The tomboyish Noriko wore a one-piece suit with red, white, and orange stripes.  Shinobu’s athletic form was sleek and strong in a two piece grey competitive bikini.  Taeko’s sweet nature and red bow was complemented by a pink top and yellow frilly skirt.  Akebi, the blond bombshell, was absolutely stunning in a two piece, boy shorts, orange swimsuit trimmed in crimson.  Her hair was kept in her signature style leaving only the spiral lock to frame her smiling face.    

 

The four girls jumped high into the air reaching over the net to hit the soaring ball.  Sand sprayed into the air when they dove and slid just barely reaching in time.  The ball bounced over the net to be greeted by a gentle push or heavy hands that spiked it toward the sand.

 

I clapped, “Good hit, Striker!”

 

“Thanks” said Shinobu, “Did you call me ‘Striker’?”

 

“Well now, I guess I did.”

 

Noriko passed me the ball, “Come on; let’s see what a Bluebird can do!”

 

“I’ll need a partner” I said spinning the ball.

 

Memphis grabbed my shoulder, “Look no further.”

 

“Alright then” I said, “Which of you lovely ladies are up first?”

 

Akebi and Taeko took their positions and readied to receive my powerful serve.  I slammed the ball over the net.  Taeko bent her knees and bumped the ball into the leaping Akebi.  A loud thud and a burst of sand was followed by some claps from spectators. 

 

Memphis passed the ball to the girls, “Good shot, good shot.  But we’re just getting warmed up.”

 

Our little match carried on for a fair bit of time and drew a small crowd.  The girls were in perfect synchronization as they dove and leaped and ran across the sand.  It was as if the volleyball would freeze in the air just moments before their superb spikes.  Memphis and I on the other hand were a small embarrassment.  We weren’t completely incompetent but our coordination was horrible.  When he dove, I would trip over him; when I set the ball he would have to bump it back up.  The girls’ spikes were impossible to stop, when it looked like they would strike one way the ball would speed the other.  When we could manage to finally leap into the air, our spikes were snuffed out by the expert blocking of Akebi.  Now I could make an excuse that Memphis and I were focused on a different set of volleyballs, but that would just be lewd. 

 

The volley ball buried itself in the sand right between our feet.

 

“Game, set, and match!” said Noriko, “Congratulations, Ooarai!”

 

“Better luck next time” smirked Shinobu.

 

I walked to Taeko and Akebi to congratulate them with a hug.  With smiles and laughs the two teams left the court in high spirits.

 

“Wow, you too are really good” I said catching my breath.

 

“Thank you” said Taeko, “You’re not too bad yourself.”

 

“Oh, no” I replied, “I was pretty bad out there.  It’s a good thing we’re good looking otherwise it might have been a little embarrassing.”

 

“Well, I’m good looking. You?  Not so much” said Memphis said with a small chuckle.

 

Yuzu approached us still clapping, “That was a good match.  Anyway, are you ready for shoulder wars?”

 

“Shoulder wars?  I didn’t know we were having a game” said Akebi.

 

“The president had a sudden whim.  You four can be a team” said Momo.

 

“So what are shoulder wars, exactly?” I asked a little embarrassed by my ignorance.

 

“It’s fun” said Anzu, “Three of you will carry one and try to knock the other teams over.  Like this!”

 

Yuzu and Momo hoisted Anzu on their shoulders.  The group moved like a single organism and playfully attacked Memphis.  They lost their footing however and toppled all over him.

 

“Best game ever” mouthed Memphis beneath the pile of women.

 

“Oh!” I said as I pulled Memphis from the pile, “It’s chicken.”

 

“Chicken?” asked Taeko helping Yuzu.

 

“That’s what we call this game back home” I said, “Though we play with just partners.  A large group seems really fun though.”

 

“See you in the water” said Anzu being carried away.

 

“Well, who’s on top?” I asked.

 

The mixed teams rocked slightly in the ocean waves, water up to our waists.  Akebi Sasaki balanced precariously on our shoulders, with Memphis and me bearing most of the weight.  Across from us was the freshmen team, the rookies Nolan and Ashley carried Azusa with Karina.  On the beach were several team members basking in the sun, cheering us on.  A whistle blew and the teams were off, barreling through the waves.

 

“Forward!” ordered Akebi.

 

Our strange mass awkwardly rushed forward bobbing left to right as we went.  The freshman moved to oppose us.  Azusa and Akebi laughed as they tried to grab the other’s headband.  We on the bottom splashed and kicked, trying to trip the other group up.  By complete accident our group spun, our legs caught the others and all of us fell into the drink.  When I broke the surface, Akebi was clenching Azusa’s headband.  We splashed about with the freshmen before cordially parting ways and hoisting Akebi back on top of us. 

 

“There he is!”

 

Smilin’ Susie was proudly seated a top the shoulders of Lucky and Suzuki and Tsuchiya.  Unfortunately for us the defining feature that caught our eyes was not the pretty women playing in the surf, but Smilin’ Susie’s red speedo.

 

“Alright cap’n get ready for a whoopin’!” shouted Smilin’ Susie waving around a few captured headbands.

 

“You alright Akebi?” I asked.

 

“Yes, let’s go!”

 

We rushed toward Susie and locked horns. 

 

“Ever play rugby, Taeko?” asked Mephis.

 

“No, why?”

 

“Just wondering” said Memphis, “Stick your feet out and try to trip ‘em up.”

 

“Like the scrum” I replied, “Good idea.”

 

The three of us pushed against the other group like two stags locking horns.  Memphis and I dug hard into the sandy floor.  With a little encouragement, Taeko jetted her foot out and tangled it with Lucky’s.  The two hookers pulled and yanked against each other while Akebi fought above.  We felt Taeko pull her foot in hard.  Our shoulders felt her arms push forward and our legs replied by propelling us forward into the group.  The change in momentum lurched Smilin’ Susie forward.  Akebi grabbed my shoulder as she fell backwards.

 

“Got it!” cheered Akebi as we fell into the sea.

 

The last teams all barreled into each other.  The waves rocked us back and forth, left and right.  It was like a scrum between four tough rugby teams.  Our little game ended theatrically when the four riders leaped from the chariots and into each other creating a massive splash of salt water.  The carriers followed suit grabbing the nearest person and in good spirits tumbled each other into the water.  The last four teams smiled and laughed as we stepped onto the beach.

 

“So who won?” asked Miho with her gentle smile.

 

“I guess no one” said Yuuki, “I lost the bands when I fell in.”

 

“Same here” said Caesar.

 

Akebi nodded, “Me too.”

 

“Well then, it’s a four way tie” said Anzu, “Are you hungry?  We’ve started a small picnic by the snack bar.”

 

On the picnic tables was something I didn’t expect.  Instead of Japanese dishes or British food that we had grown accustomed to, hamburgers, hot dogs, corn dogs, chips, crisps, wings, and other junk meals were spread across the tables and piled higher than I had thought possible.  After the surprise of the sheer amount of food, both teams grabbed seats at the table and filled their plates.

 

“How were you able to get this prepared so quickly?” asked Miho.

 

“More importantly, why did you bring so much?” I asked.

 

Anzu nibbled at a French fry, “Oh, we didn’t bring this.  They did.”

 

“Hey Miporin!” shouted a friendly voice.

 

“Kei?”

 

Before Miho could say another word a girl with full body, wavy, blonde hair and green-blue eyes and dressed in a pair of very short denim jeans and a red sleeveless shirt embraced Miho tightly.  Miho returned the hug and smiled kindly when they parted.

 

“How have you been, Miporin?” said the blonde girl with large amounts of enthusiasm.

 

“I’m doing fine.  How about you, Kei?”

 

“Great!” Kei’s eyes examined me from head to toe, “Is this guy your boyfriend?”

 

“No, no, no” said Miho trying to clear the confusion, “We’re not –“

 

I stammered “But that doesn’t –“

 

“He is –“

 

“She’s very –“

 

“Yo!” called a manly voice.

 

A tall, strong, dark skinned man walked along the beach carrying a red cooler.  His short black hair was curled in such a way that his head resembled a hedgehog.  He had dark brown eyes and a big white grin.  His white t-shirt had sweat stains around the neck and back.  A small patch of an eagle’s head was sewn onto the left leg of his shorts. 

 

His smile melted away when our eyes met, “You!”

 

I stared him down, “You!”

 

We were nose to nose, growling as we glared at each other.

 

“Get off of my beach!” he snarled.

 

“It’s a free country, and I want to stay.”

 

“I thought I told you that I never wanted to see you again” he said in a deep husky voice.

 

“Me neither, but here I am staring at your ugly face.”

 

“Sugar’s it’s fine we can go somewhere else” said Miho a little frightened.

 

“Ted, back off” barked Kei.

 

I tried to reassure Miho, “It’s alright, Miho.  This guy is just barking.”

 

“Don’t make me bite” he warned.

 

“Yankee” I challenged.

 

“Cockney” he retorted.

 

I grabbed the neck of his shirt and raised my fist.  He pulled my arm and raised his fist in return.  The teams became silent and stared at us waiting for the blows.  We growled and glared.  I brought my fist to his face and lightly slapped him on the cheek.

 

“Tuskegee, you Yankee Doodle dandy” I said excited, “How have you been?”

 

Everyone breathed a sigh of relief.

 

“I’m doing fine” he replied, “You gave us a hell of a fight during the qualifiers.”

 

I grinned and said, “Well, just so you know, we were holding back just to make you feel better.”

 

“So were we.”

 

“Miho, this is Ted “Tuskegee” Franklin, squadron leader of the Screaming Eagles.  Ted, this is Miho, commander of the Ooarai Tankery team.”

 

“It’s nice to meet you” he said bowing his head, “Your girlfriend is very polite.”

 

“Oh we’re not…” we stammered.

 

“Hello!  I’m Kei” said the blonde girl in a sing song tone.

 

“Kei, this is Captain Johnny Walker” said Miho, “We just call him Sugar’s Blues.”

 

Kate whispered in Miho’s ear and made her face blush.  There were a few mutterings and murmurs at the table, but they could be about anything.  The sun had turned orange as it lowered in the sky; the beach staff lit some tiki torches as we ate.  Melody, in his wisdom, brought a record player and introduced Ooarai to his taste in music.  Lucky for us, it wasn’t the classical music from centuries back, but swinging tunes from the last one.  Tuskegee and I excused ourselves from the party and found a quiet place for some talk between squadron leaders.

 

“I trust we’ll be following Gentlemen’s Rules” I said taking a swig from a bottle.

 

“Always” said Tuskegee, “How many rookies do you have?”

 

“Two.  Why?”

 

“We’ve got several that joined up after the qualifiers and want a crack at a tournament match.”

 

“Alright” I took another drink, “You’re a fair cop, you know that right?”

 

“I learned from the fairest of them all” he clinked his bottle with mine, “Have you heard anything from the other matches?”

 

“Only that Jaeger got through.  You?”

 

“The Centurions are out.”

“That’s not a surprise.  What I’m concerned about is round two.  They’ll be three teams up there, but there’s been no indication of a round robin.”

 

“The eliminated teams will get a consolation elimination round” said Tuskegee, “Winner of that faces one of the other teams.  But it won’t be the same team to keep it a little fair.”

 

“A consolation bracket with three teams, same problem.”

 

“The Centurions are out though.”

 

“Like I said, not a surprise.”

 

“No, they’ve forfeited along with Anzio.”

 

I nearly spat out my drink, “What?  Why?”

 

“There was a falling out between the commanders and they got completely annihilated.  And let’s face it; their stuff isn’t as good as ours.  They know when they don’t have a snowball’s chance to win.”

 

“They had Ohka in the first round, didn’t they?”

 

“Yup.”

 

I nodded, “So the consolation round is going to be between Sturmovich…”

 

“And the losers of our match.”

 

“Well then,” I raised my bottle in toast, “I wish you luck against Sturmovich.”

 

Ted laughed, “Same to you.  Hey, so is there anything between you and Miho?  She’s kind of cute.” 

 

“Is there anything between you and Kei?” I said dodging the question.

 

“Nah, she’s not my type.”

 

“Blonde?”

 

“American.”

 

Dusk was giving way to evening by the time the celebration had ended.  The skimpy swimsuits sadly disappeared into bags while hoodies and trousers kept them warm.  I grabbed my bag and headed down the street toward the ferries.

 

_Damn, I forgot to study.  Well better do it while I walk._

The street lights kept me on a straight path while I read over the tedious old English of Romeo and Juliet.  The sunset breeze danced with the tiki torch flames.  Tourists in the stereotypical Hawaiian shirts and leis walked the streets, some of them greeting me when we passed.  Something bumped into me and together we tumbled to the ground.  Books fell out of my satchel and my legs entangled with whatever it was that hit me.

 

“Terribly sorry, I was reading and walking, dangerous I know –“

 

“No it’s my fault I wasn’t paying attention –“

 

“Oh!” we both said.

 

“Hello Akebi.  Heading to the ferries too?”

 

“Not yet” she said, “I wanted to pick up a couple souvenirs, but I’m not sure what to get.”

 

“I’ve got a couple of ideas,” recalling several shops I passed, “Mind if I join you?”

 

Akebi’s smile was all the invitation I needed.  We strolled around the bright streets of Honolulu popping in and out of various shops.  We found a variety of exotic items, from glimmering stones and glass from the foot of a volcano, to lizards and birds native to the island.  We tried on Aloha shirts and pants, but they weren’t her style.  She laughed when I put on a tiki mask and did a little ditty.  After I made a fool of myself, she did the same with a grass hula skirt.  There were simple things, nicknacks, mugs, plastic hula girls, and the like, but they weren’t for her. 

 

One item caught her eye however.  There was a simple necklace with a simple ornament made of wood and white bone.  Wood was polished to such sheen that one could see their own reflection.  The bone had been smoothed and polished, and engraved with Hawaiian symbols.  The two materials were seamlessly shaped into a hook shape.  The magnificent piece was hung around the neck by a simple braided rope.

 

Akebi stared at the necklace and asked, “What is this?”

 

“It is a makau, fish hook necklace” said the clerk, “A good luck charm here.”

 

I was looking at the novelties while Akebi purchased the good luck charm.  She donned the necklace as we walked toward the ferries.

 

“Looks like you found the perfect souvenier.”

 

“Yeah, I got a couple things for the volleyball team too” Akebi pulled out a couple Aloha shirts, “Think they’ll like it?”

 

“Certainly” I fumbled with the gift in my bag, “Here, I have something for you.”

 

A necklace of seashells rose from the bag.  The darkness covered the shells’ colours, but the fire light danced across their milky interior.  Between the shells were small shark’s teeth, polished and clean.  A simple black thick thread held it all together.

 

“Thank you” Akebi smiled and asked, “But, why?”

 

“Well, for a while it looked like you couldn’t find the perfect souvenir.  So I got to thinking” I said a little embarrassed, “I found this hanging with a few others and I thought it would look nice on you.”

 

Akebi pushed back her hair and put on the seashells, “You’re right, they look very nice.  You shouldn’t have.”

 

“It was my pleasure.”

 

We boarded the ferry just in time to see the first stars twinkle through the night sky.  The deck was filled with girls from Ooarai and the lads from Excalibur.  Clearly, we weren’t the only ones enjoying a night on the town.  Akebi and I sat near the prow of the ship, the ocean wind playing with her hair, and rustling the pages of my book.

 

“What’s that?” she asked.

 

“Romeo and Juliet.  It’s for my literature course.”

 

“Oh I love Shakespeare.  The romance, the comedy, tragedy, it’s all so wonderful.  The story lets us escape into another time.  Another world.  Like a midsummer night’s dream.” she said with a tired yawn.

 

“Really?  It all kind of goes over my head.”

 

“It’s not that hard.  Let me show you” Akebi ran her finger over the page, “The famous balcony scene, two lovers charmed by the beauty of the other, kept apart by their parents.  But love pushes them closer together, even if they must give up their families to be together.  ‘Deny my father and refuse thy name or if thou wilt not be but sworn my love and I will no longer be a Capulet.’  The happiest scene in the entire play.  But also the saddest.”

 

“How is it the saddest scene?  They’ve met each other for the first time, they’re in love, they _say_ they’re in love, you know?  All the good stuff.”

 

“There secret love fosters hate in others and that is why it’s sad.  After the balcony, everything is set to end in tears.  The comedy becomes a tragedy.”

 

“Can you tell me more? I need a hand understanding all of this.”

 

“Of course” yawned Akebi, “I’ll help you study any time, just give me a call.”

 

“Great.  What’s your –“

 

Akebi’s head was resting on my shoulder and she was peacefully snoozing.  I gently put her head on my lap and leaned back in the bench.  The ferry docked with Ooarai and the horn sounded.  The sleeping passengers groggily awakened and began to file off the ship.  I walked Akebi home before jumping on a helicopter back to Excalibur.

 

The incessant ringing of the alarm forced me out of my blanket cocoon.  I unhappily put on my uniform, straightening the tie to perfection and putting on one of the several pairs of pressed trousers.  The book bag pulled my shoulder toward the earth as I walked out the door and down the street.

 

_Huh?  Why are the school doors locked?_

 

“Here you are!” hollered Piccadilly, “What’s with the uniform?”

 

“Classes, mate” I replied, “Why aren’t you in yours?”

 

“What day do you think it is?”

 

I put my face in my palm, “Saturday.”

 

“A couple of us are heading to shore, want to come?”

 

The Bluebirds had decided to take a day of rest before spending tomorrow enclosed in their cockpits for hours on end.

 

“Let’s check out that one over there” said Checkmate Cathie.

 

“Did you only come for food?” asked Lucky.

 

“Look, I’ve had nothing but British gruel since I’ve come to Excalibur” said Cathie, “Now with Ooarai visiting here and there, I’ve had some good oriental food and while in the USA I’m going to eat as much of their grub as I can before I’m subject to the slop again.”

 

“But American food will kill you,” said Piccadilly, “Heck, I doubt it’s even food!”

 

“Still taste better than your English stuff.”

 

“Don’t disrespect the English food mate, I’ve tried your Czech stuff and that ain’t food” replied Regal.

 

“That’s because I can’t cook” replied Cathie.

 

“Aye, I’m with you Cathie” said Smilin’ Susie, “English grub ain’t that good.  Now good ol’ Scottish cuisine, that’s something you should eat every day.”

 

“We want food, not poison” said Peacock.

 

“Hello boys!”

 

Saori, Miho and the others of the Panzer IV strolled down the street toward us.  Saori ginger hair framed her face, while her brown eyes hid behind a pair of red rimmed glasses.  She wore a light blue blouse with a flowery design along the edges, with a long white skirt with a matching blue trim.  Her petite feet were comfortably kept in a pair of black Mary-Jane shoes.  Miho’s white blouse was beneath a thin red cotton jacket.  Her denim capris showed off her slender legs and on her feet she wore a pair of white sneaker shoes.

 

“Hi girls, what brings you here today?” I asked.

 

“It’s a beautiful day, so we came out to enjoy the weather” said Miho.

 

“Indeed” said Hana in a lovely summer dress and large wicker hat, “There are some beautiful flowers here that we don’t see in Japan.”

 

“How about you guys?” asked Saori.

 

“We’re just here for some R&R” said Piccadilly, “Tomorrow’s our heavy day of practice, practice, practice.”

 

I counted the girls, “Is Yukari with you?”

 

“No” sighed Saori, “She wanted to spend the day with the Panzer IV and the other tanks.  She’s kind of obsessed.”

 

“Perhaps passionate might be the better word” said Regal.

 

“Where are you going now?” asked Peacock.

 

Mako pointed to a small shop, “We were headed to that cafe.”

 

“What a coincidence, we were just about to go in” said Smilin’ Susie, “Let’s go, the Captain’s buying.”

 

I protested, “I’m not buying for you.  But ladies, the first ones are my treat.”

 

“Such a gentleman” Saori pulled Miho aside, “He’s quite a catch.”

 

_Damn, I was hoping she’d see I was kidding._

 

“Oh I’m sure he’s just kidding” Miho replied.

_Yup, I’m definitely stuck paying for the first round now.  I’ll look like a total dick if I don’t._

 

The little street side shop had some small patio tables beneath parasols that were enclosed by a small white wooden fence.  The door was painted in creamy beige and shaded by a red and white awning.  Inside was a different story.  Contrary to the small quaint appearance on the outside, the interior was rather large with several tables on the floor.  The walls were painted in a mix of complementary dark and bright colours.  Paintings and pictures of tank and war planes were hung on the walls.  At the back of the shop were all the pastries and cakes neatly displayed on doilies and napkins behind a glass window.

 

“What can I bring you today?” asked the waitress dressed in a pilot’s uniform.

 

“Can you bring us an assortment of cakes” ordered Hana.

 

“Certainly, anything to drink?”

 

“Tea, please.”

 

“Darjeeling?  Anything else?”

 

“Earl Grey for me” I ordered, “Hot.  Milk and honey for it also.  Thanks.”

 

“Absolutely, it’ll be right out.”

 

We had some nonchalant idle chit chat as we waited for our order.  The store owner opened the windows and let in the sea breeze.  It was such a lovely day we moved from out to the patio.  Birds chirped and sang as they flew overhead.  A peculiar little birdie landed on our table and hopped around and pecked at the wooden table.  A few moments passed and the little things flapped its wings and perched on Hana’s hat.

 

“Hana, hold that pose” Regal grabbed a pencil from his breast pocket, “Just a few seconds more.”

 

The small bird had a red head and orange beak.  The black wings looked like a jacket over the light blue-grey breast.  Regal sized up the picturesque Hana with his thumb and closed an eye.  The bird hopped on her head while she grinned and sighed heavenly sighs.

 

“Got it!” said Regal as the bird fluttered away.

 

He unfolded the paper napkin and pressed the soft graphite tip against it.  A light touch here, a gentle stroke there and the sketch was beginning to take form.

 

“Are you an artist?” asked Miho.

 

“Not exactly” winked Regal, “I’m a just a man that sketches the odd thing that catches his eye.”

 

“You’re too modest, mate” I said, “Regal here is always sketching away.  Planes, people, trees, the man draws everything.  We’ve even got a couple of his sketches hanging in the lounge.”

 

“Like a child’s picture on the fridge” he said, “They’re not that good.”

 

Hana’s eyes watched the gentle tip of the pencil, “No, you’re wrong.  Every stroke you make is like a breath of the wind, light, gentle, and free.  The line and shade is done with care.”

 

“Much like your flower arrangements” he said, “There, finished.”

 

The simple sketch amazed everyone.  From the bird to Hana’s face, every detail had earned an amazing amount of attention.  It was only an image of grey and white, a shaded bird, and an elegant face drawn on the thin paper of a napkin, but to us it was a portrait worthy of a canvas.

 

“Amazing” said Saori, “And you drew that all from memory too.”

 

“A recent memory” Regal handed the image to Hana, “For you.”

 

Hana blushed at the gift and accepted it with grace.

 

“Thanks for making us look bad, Regal” said Checkmate.

 

“Well Cap, you need to one up Regal otherwise your girlfriend might leave you” said Smilin’ Susie with a smirk, “And Regal, you owe the Captain an apology.”

 

_Where are those cakes?  Please hurry up and arrive._

 

“Miho, is this true?” asked Saori with a mix of apprehension and excitement, “I’m so happy for you!  How long have you two been going out?  I hope you’re treating her right, Johnny.”

 

I met Miho’s eyes and they were saying the same thing.  A mixture of confusion, embarrassment, and a little bit of desperation.

 

_Are we?  I mean, you’re cute and all, but I’m… well I’m me.  Come on cake, show up already._

“Sooooo…..How are you, Miho?” I asked nervously.

 

She smiled nervously, “Fine, thank you.  You look very smart in your uniform.”

 

“Thanks, I kind of forgot it was the weekend.  You look very nice too.”

 

“Thank you.”

 

“Well, this is awkward” said Piccadilly tapping his fingers on the table.

 

_No shit.  And it’s your entire fault, all of you.  Quick!  Think of something funny or witty to say.  No that’s just lewd.  That’s too silly, that’s too serious.  Think dammit, think!_

 

By luck or through the intervention of fate, music began to ebb and flow around the patio and into the small street.  The melody was energetic, made of a mix of brass, deep strings, with the saxophone leading the way.  The tenor voice of the saxophone mixed long and short, high and low, with the accompanying piano.  The bass strummed only three deep notes to a beat that was kept vibrant by the rapid soft sound of the cymbal that was like the ocean waves. 

 

“What is that music?” asked Miho getting lost in the sound.

 

“Jazz” I replied, “You like it?”

 

Miho nodded.

 

“Melody would love this place” said Smilin’ Susie.

 

“It’s very pleasant and I want to dance to it” said Hana, “But I’m not sure how.”

 

 “Would you like to learn how?” I asked.

 

Hana smiled and glanced at Saori who was also grinning.  The two had a conversation without words.

 

“Thank you” said Hana, “But the heat has made me a bit dizzy, perhaps later.”

 

“Miho, you should dance with him” said Saori helping her out of her seat.

 

“Oh, no, I don’t think.  It’s not that… It’s just that… I’m not a good dancer and –“

 

“Nonsense Miporin, you danced the Anko Dance like a pro, this should be nothing” said Saori gently pushing her into me.

 

_Well that was subtle as a hurricane._

 

“Come on Cap, let’s see how well you can cut the rug” Piccadilly pushed me toward Miho.

 

“Just don’t step on her toes” joked Checkmate.

 

_You’re not helping guys._

 

I bowed slightly and offered my hand, “Ms. Nishizumi, may I have this dance?”

 

Miho took my hand nervously, “Yes.”

 

The tenor voice of the saxophone allowed the beautiful soft sounds of the piano.  The rhythm had picked up making it easier to step to the melody.  My right hand was on Miho’s back holding her close, not too close but not too far.  My left hand held hers, we both shook a little bit, nervous from the awkward situation.  My hands were clammy and sweaty, hers were calm and soft.  I guided her through the steps.  Miho smiled as she glided past me.  My face turned red with embarrassment.

 

“No need to blush old boy, I’m sure her feet will be fine by tomorrow” taunted Piccadilly.

 

The table laughed.  Miho and I glanced at each other across the table.  Embarrassment cracked through her meek façade, but there was something more.  Despite the smile and giggling, the little rose red on her cheeks, there was an air of uncertainty.


	8. Chapter 8

“There it is, purple smoke!”

 

“Alright boys, let’s do our job!” ordered Lucky, “Follow me and drop bombs in sequence.”

 

The four Typhoons fell from the sky like meteors with engines roaring.  Massive bombs were strapped beneath the wings, their great weight leading them to the earth.  With the press of a button the bombs fell from the wings and whistled as they fell.  The earth shook, dirt was thrown high into the air, a great flash of white light was followed by a thunderous boom!

 

“Relay, what’s the word from the tankers?”

 

“You’ve hit one tank and gave the other two a bit of a rattle, but they’re fine.”

 

“You’re kidding me” said Lucky, “Just one?”

 

“I wish I was.  Head back to base and rearm.  You’ve got to get this down” I ordered, “Bomber Babes, you’re up.”

 

“Roger that, beginning our attack run.”

 

“Piccadilly here.  Sugar’s we’re ready to start the next dogfight.”

 

“Roger.  Alright lads, no slacking, imagine this is the real deal.”

 

“Waters here.  Can we go over some defensive ACM?”

 

“Alright.  Waters, Nolan, you’re on the receiving end drop to 1500 meters.  Memphis, Regal up top.  Relay, keep me updated on Lucky’s wing.  When they get back we’re practicing cover and escort.”

 

“Roger!” the squadron said in unison.

 

“Sugar’s Blues, I’ve got a request from Commander Miho” said Relay, “Proceed west to checkpoint easy and drop to 500 meters.”

 

“Mind if I ask what the request is?”

 

“She misses her boyfriend, give her a flyby to say hello” Relay’s laugh echoed through the radio, “I’m kidding, the other tanks are covered in camouflage and are in a mock battle.  They want to train with enemy air craft for a bit.”

 

“As long as they didn’t paint their tanks bright pink or gold they should be fine.  I’ll check it out, patch me through to the tanks.  Lilly, manage the lads ‘til I get back.”

 

“Wilco.”

 

I pushed my nose into a steep dive pulling out at the last second.  The tree tops greeted me with gentle flutters and bid farewell with great waves.  As my plane approached the target area, I peered through the canopies and the leaves.  I banked left and right to see into the blind spot under my wings. 

 

_Alright, now what’s out of the ordinary?_

“Got you!” I released a burst of machine gun into the trees.

 

The rounds rattled and sparked against the metal chassis.

 

“How did you see us?” asked Nekota.

 

“You forgot to camouflage your barrel also, it was sticking out from the tree line like a sore thumb” I said, “Also, mixing in yellow might not be the best idea unless you’re on sand.”

 

I continued my patrol over the area.  The girls were surprisingly adept at hiding their tanks from me, but they did betray their work through simple mistakes.  Flash and smoke from overconfident gunners, sudden and abrupt movements to new positions, and my personal favourite, forgetting to cover their bright blue and white school crest allowed me to zero on their position.  All this said, I was only able to find less than half of the hidden tanks.

 

“Alright that’s it for me” I radioed, “Keep it up girls.”

 

“Roger.”

 

“Takebe to Sugar’s, we’re ready to start the practice battle and rehearse the plan.”

 

“Relay what’s the status of the other groups?”

 

“Bomber Babes are heading back to rearm, same with Piccadilly’s wing.  Typhoons are approaching the target area, I’ll tell them to hold.  ETA for ready up, 20 minutes.”

 

“Saori, did you get that?”

 

“Yes” Saori paused, “We’ll move to starting positions and wait for your signal.  All tanks, proceed to starting locations.”

 

I rendezvoused with the Typhoons as they practiced dive bomb attacks on imaginary targets.  While we waited I organized the wing into attackers and bombers, switching off every few minutes.  Black specs appeared on the horizon, the others had arrived.  I signalled Miho, and the rehearsal began.

 

Monday, the big day.  This will be where we prove ourselves or falter and fade into obscurity.  Both teams lined up against each other.  A few large cotton clouds slowly crawled across the skies.  The array of tanks stoically stood behind the women while our planes remained back at the airfield.

 

“Commanders, Squadron and Wing Leaders step forward.”

 

Miho and I walked toward the centre of the field.  Beside her was Momo, to my flanks were my comrades: Lucky, Piccadilly, and Melody.  A short distance away was the blonde Kei and the strong Ted Franklin.

 

“Ladies, and gentlemen, I expect a good and fair match” said the judge, “Salute!”

 

Tuskegee and I snapped to attention while Miho and Kei bowed.  Then came the cordial ‘good luck’.  The girls were about to file out but Tuskegee stopped them.  He walked up to the centre of the field, baseball bat in resting on his shoulder and baseball in his hand.

 

“What’s going on?” asked Miho.

 

“Just a little tradition with the Screaming Eagles” I said, “Come on.”

 

“Hey, Sugar’s Blues, Miho!” hollered Kei.

 

“Hi Kei,” Miho and I said.

 

“Catch!” Tuskegee tossed the baseball bat.

 

In a little bit of a panic I reached out and grabbed it at roughly half way to the butt.  In an instant Tuskegee grabbed the section above my hand.  With smirks, our hands climbed up the bat until I was on top.

 

“Aw, shucks,” said Tuskegee, “Well do you want to pitch or bat, you Cockney putz?”

 

“Give me a second you Yankee Doodle,” I looked at Miho, “So, do you want to pitch or bat?  Don’t worry, either one is fine.”

 

“Pitch?” said Miho nervously.

 

Tukegee tossed her the ball.  She fumbled around when she tried to catch it.  Kei took the bat and got into position.  I led Miho a few meters back and calmly told her what was happening.  This was a little tradition with the Screaming Eagles.  Their love of baseball extended into AirCom, so every time they went to a match they had to have an opening pitch.  A few of the more superstitious members of their squadron thought the result of the first pitch was an omen for the match.

 

Miho hurled the ball as fast as she could with all the power she could muster.  The baseball soared through the air determined to embed itself in Tukegee’s glove.  Kei’s eyes fixed on the ball and with an exuberant ‘YAHOO!’ she swung.  There was a loud crack and the ball went soaring into the heavens never to be recovered.

 

I whistled, “Nice hit.  And that was a good throw, Miho.”

 

“I’m sorry I didn’t get it by her” she said.

 

“Don’t fret over it.  Johnny never got one passed me either” Tuskegee laughed, “Still that’s a good omen for my team.”

 

Our planes roared and rolled down the airfield.  We gently pulled on the controls and we began to rise into the air.  Our formation of fighters surrounded the bomber and waited for the command to begin.

 

“Relay, you there?” I asked.

 

“Yeah, I’m here.”

 

“Patch me through directly to Miho for the entire match” I ordered, “Keep tabs on the other wings and keep them coordinated.  Everyone else, we need to strike hard and fast.  They’re probably flying P-47s, damn things are fast so Spitfires we need to get them ASAP.  Rookies support us best you can.”

 

“What about the Typhoons?” asked Lucky.

 

“Stay high up until Relay directs you or you see purple smoke.”

 

“Sugar’s are you there?” asked a girly voice.

 

“Yeah, I’m here.  Ready?”

 

“As we’ll ever be.  Good luck.”

 

“Same to you.”

 

A robotic voice shot through the radio, “Match start!”

 

Miho’s voice cracked through the radio, “Panzer vor!”

 

The squadron immediately took to their positions.  The massive Lancaster fell toward the earth toward the first forest.  All the fighters climbed high into the air stopping just beneath the clouds.  The heavy Typhoons lumbered due to the extra 500lbs strapped to their wings.  Beneath the heavenly skies, dirt and earth was mixed with smoke and steam as the tanks rolled across the country side. 

 

 “You should have seen it” said Regal, “I have no idea what Miho sees in you.”

 

“We’re not together.”

 

“Oh sure, and that little ice cream trip was just nothing then” said Lucky, “I saw you two smiling as you walked down the street.  Melody also said that you two stayed in the briefing room a little longer, alone, together.”

 

“Steal a kiss did you, cap?” chuckled Smilin’ Susie.

 

“God damn it.  We’re not a couple, we’re just friends.”

 

“He’s right.  The Cap and Miho aren’t together” said Cathie.

 

“Thank you.”

 

“You’re dating Akebi right?” asked Cathie.

 

“What!?”

 

“Yeah, you two went on a little shopping trip together.  Then she snoozed on your shoulder on the ferry back” said Cathie.

 

“How the hell do you know that?!”

 

“I told him.  I was two rows behind you on the ferry” said Peacock.

 

“You’re dating two of the Ooarai girls?  You dog” said Memphis, “Save some for us.”

 

The radio devolved into rumour and lewd jokes.  Anger boiled and bottled under the leather cap. 

 

“Miho to air group” her voice was a welcome change.

 

“It’s one of the Cap’s girlfriends” whispered Memphis.

 

 

“Reading you.”

 

“Your bomber knocked out a bunch of tanks, we’re getting ready to break through.”

 

“Understood” I replied, “Typhoons get ready. Your ground strike is coming up.  Miho, have you seen any enemy air craft?”

 

“No, sorry.”

 

“Contact!  10 o’clock low!” said Ashley.

 

The squadron held their breath.  Not even the buzz and hiss of static was in the air.  Everyone’s thoughts were fixed on the rookie that nearly cost us the Ortona match.

 

“What are your orders, squadron leader?” asked Nolan.

 

_Ha, the kid learned something after all._

 

“What’s down there rookie?” asked Piccadilly.

 

“It’s big and reflecting a lot of light” reported Ashley, “There are a bunch of smaller ones too.  Tip to the left, you’ll see.”

 

“God damn it!” shouted Piccadilly, “It’s a B-17, and it looks like P-40’s covering.”

 

“Where are the P-51’s?  Tuskegee always flies a flight of P-51’s!” panicked Lucky.

 

“I don’t see them.”

 

“Shit!”

 

The squadron was stuck above the targets, frozen like a deer in the headlights.

 

“Nolan, Ashley, dive down and take the P-40s, Spitfires follow me, we’re going after the bomber.”

 

“Roger that captain!  We’ll follow you and attack the bomber” said Lucky.

 

“No!  You lot get in the cloud and wait for Miho to call you!”

 

“But you won’t be able to take out the B-17 and its escort on your own.”

 

“God damn it!  Don’t argue with me now!  Stay up here!  Relay, keep Lucky posted.  If the situation changes **then** make the call, got it Lucky?”

 

“Understood” said Lucky with a hint of dejection.

 

“Alright fighters, break, break, break!”

 

The rookies led the charge with guns blazing.  The small caliber bullets sparked against the Kittyhawk’s wings.  The enemy P-40s scrambled for a moment before finding their attackers.  The Hurricanes dove through the formation and sped away in a climb.  Two of the fighters broke formation and gave chase.  The Spitfires were in a deep dive and it was too late to pull away.  The B-17’s gunners opened up straight at us.  The red bullets narrowly missed the engines and glanced off our wings.

 

“Regal, Memphis, go for the fighters.  Piccadilly on me, we’re strafing the engines.  Break!”

 

The four fighters split into pairs.  Memphis and Regal ganged up on the wingman and engaged.  Its ally began a climb to loop behind them.  There was no time to go after him, the bomber had to fall or Miho’s tanks would be in deep trouble.

 

The bomber suddenly ceased its defensive fire.  I honed in on the bomber, eyes fixed through the reflector sight.  The bright sun reflected off the silver bullet airframe.  The plane shook as the flurry of 20mm cannon and machine gun spewed forth from our simultaneous fire.  Sparks flickered and flashed all over the wings and fuselage.  Orange tracer fell from above striking every inch of my plane.  The controls began to stiffen and the plane fought me when I pulled it.

 

“P-51’s high!” shouted Lilly.

 

“No shit!  Break off the bomber, grab those fighters!  Nolan, Ashley get back here ASAP!”

 

Over the radio Lucky said, “Captain, we can drop in and –“

 

“No!  Support the tanks!”

 

A Mustang spurred past with the engine roaring like a flying tiger.  The Spitfire peeled off and gave chase. I glanced behind me and saw Lilly forming up to assist.  The Mustang turned and climbed to the left, flashing its checkered wings and Screaming Eagle roundels.  The controls resisted me as I pushed the plane to match its movement.  My vision narrowed, focusing though the crosshairs.  A burst of fire converged on the target and slammed into the engine and raked back across the cockpit.  A plume of black smoke poured from the tail and the Mustang dove out of the fire.

 

“I can’t shake this guy!” shouted Memphis.

 

“Just a little longer” said Regal, “Hold on a little longer.”

 

The four planes were ensnared in a lethal game of follow the leader with Memphis under the gun while his Kittyhawk target tried to break away.  Burst after burst streaked around the Spitfire as Memphis banked to and fro, a few finding their mark in the Kittyhawk.  Regal was in hot pursuit holding back his shots until he was completely sure he could hit.  A fifth plane streaked in from high above and released a perfect flurry.  Regal’s plane spewed black smoke and dove away.

 

“Sorry guys.”

 

In a desperate act Memphis held down the trigger hoping to score a lucky hit.  His attacker followed suit breathing fire like a furious dragon.  The horrible sign of defeat painted itself across the sky.

 

“They got me too, but I got mine.”

 

The enemy fighters quickly formed and swarmed around me and Piccadilly like bees around the hive.  Instinctively we reacted to the swarm assault.  Our fighters struggled to obey but with some hard encouragement from the controls they made their way.  Our Spitfires weaved into each other to provide mutual support.  The enemy pilots honed in on our tails, but our maneuver put them into our sights.  Light bursts of yellow machine gun fire flew by Mustangs scaring them away.  We dove and climbed to avoid the attacks but never broke formation.  Our ineffective bursts pushed attackers off our tail, but we can’t last forever.

 

“Lucky Lady, we need help” reported Miho, “Enemy tanks at point H7, we marked with smoke.  Be careful, we’ve mixed in with the enemy tanks too.”

 

“Roger that, beginning our attack run.”

 

_Well at least the tanks won’t be alone._

 

The Americans broke off their attack and climbed high into the air.  Their lumbering bomber continued to push across the sky.

 

“We need to get that bomber” said Piccadilly.

 

“Yeah, we’ve only got one chance let’s make it count.”

 

The Spitfires formed abreast and put all power to the engines.  We couldn’t ascend above the bomber, lest the fighters eat us for breakfast, nor did we have the power to overtake it and attack it from the flanks.  It was the worst way to attack a bomber, but we’d have to pull up right on its rear.

 

“Ready Lilly?”

 

“No, but we don’t have a choice.”

 

The defensive fire was thick and chaotic making it near impossible to dodge.  We pressed on the trigger and in controlled bursts pecked away at the bomber. 

 

“Ah!” shouted Lilly, “They got me.  I’m out, sorry Captain.”

 

_This is it, we’ve failed lads._

 

As I broke off from the bomber the remaining fighters fell on me.  I couldn’t win against the odds, but it would be bad form to simply let them win.  I pushed into the swarm and bobbed and weaved around the fighters.  Glancing blows struck my wings, tracers barely missed the protective glass of the canopy.  The few shots I could manage harmlessly sparked on their wings.  The world was surrounded by blurs of red and black as the blood rushed to and from my head in the hard turns.  The g-forced crushed my chest making it hard to breath.  I clenched every muscle and deep sharp breaths but the exercises became harder to perform as the fight continued.  Arms and legs cramped, teeth ground against each other. 

 

_How long have this been going on for?  Come on.  One more, just one more._

 

My grip loosened, the turn became wider and wider.  A Mustang slid onto my six and line up his shot.

 

_Damn, this is it._

 

I closed my eyes and waited for the controls to release.

 

“Get off the Captain!”

 

A Typhoon came down from the heavens raining 20mm shells on my attacker.  The Mustang peeled off in a panic.  The Spitfire clumsily rolled away to see its saviour.  Twin Typhoons broke the swarm of Americans and used the chaos to get right on their tails.

 

“Are you alright, Squadron Leader?”

 

“Damn turns took a lot out of me.  Lucky, what the hell are you doing here?  Go back and help the tanks!”

 

“The situation changed, I made the call.  They’re mixed in with the enemy, Checkmate and Peacock are striking.  We’re helping you.  Susie, take this guy!”

 

“Roger dodger!”

 

“We’re back too” said Ashley.

 

“The Kittyhawks got away though” said Nolan, “Ashley, take the one on the right, I’ll get his leader.”

 

The planes chased each other across the endless sky.  The tracers were like falling stars.

 

“My plane is beat nine ways to Sunday” I reported with heavy breaths.

 

“We’ll cover you, get back to the base” said Lucky.

 

“Get the bomber.”

 

“Don’t worry, we will.”

 

The Spitfire banked slowly toward the east, close to limping all the way.  Heavy thoughts filled my head, mixing disappointment in myself, in the wing, in the squadron.  At the first sign of the enemy we were almost annihilated.  I’m the leader of the squadron, and my commands…

 

“Captain, turn hard!”

 

The Spitfire lurched to the side dodging a stream of bullets.

 

_You’ve got to be kidding me._

 

I was dragged into another dogfight at a disadvantage.  Normally, my Spitfire could turn circles around a Mustang, but the damage was too extensive to pull those maneuvers.  Climbing was out of the question, and he would beat me in a dive.  All I could do was hope his trigger happy habit would exhaust his ammo without landing the lethal hit.  The planes banked left and right with streams of death pushing over my head.

 

“Captain, turn hard left” said Nolan, “Shoot when I tell you.”

 

Heavy breaths ran over my lips.  I rolled the Spitfire and pulled as hard as I could.  My body clenched and strained against the forces while blood rushed from my head.  The sound of my heart overwhelmed the roaring engine.  A black haze obscured my vision. 

 

“Shoot!”

 

The Spitfire obeyed my command ending the turn and pouring the few rounds I had left into the unseen target.  The black shroud lifted.  Nolan’s Hurricane was less than twenty meters ahead.  Panic surged through my body, the Spitfire fell into a hard dive.  Black smoke trailed behind Nolan’s pursuer.

 

“We did it, Captain” he said, “We got both of them.”

 

_Mayday, mayday!  Open god damn it open!  Pull the chord, feel the snap.  Mayday!  Mayday!_

“Captain, pull up!  Pull up!”

 

The green earth barrelled toward me.  My heart raced and the strain pushed me against the seat as the Spitfire veered upward.  Barely 200 meters above the ground I began the long flight home. 

 

“Relay” I tried to catch my breath, “Give me a report.”

 

“Rookies, Lucky and Susie are engaged with the fighters, as you know.  Lancaster is currently headed to support the tanks.  Checkmate and Peacock are climbing to join the dogfight.  Head home Captain, we’ll patch your Spits up.”

 

“The tank fight…”

 

“If you want to catch a glimpse head due north two kilometers, but you should head back.”

 

“I need to check on… make sure…”

 

“I understand.  All fighters, keep the Yankees occupied, the Cap is doing a flyby of the battlefield.”

 

The last Spitfire circled over the organized chaos of the tank battle.  Rabbit Team lay motionless on the ground, defeated along with a Sherman directly in front.  The Tiger (P), their flag tank, was leading the charge tearing through the thin line of Sherman tanks with its feared 88mm cannon.  To its flanks were the StuG III and the Hetzer providing covering fire for the more maneuverable, lighter tanks.  Miho led the other tanks in a mission that pushed them straight into the enemy ranks, mixing in at point blank range. 

 

_Lucky was right, a bombing run would’ve hit our guys as well as theirs._

 

Flashes and smoke covered the battlefield, the sound must have been deafening.  Shells bounced off armour, the tanks lumbered around the field.  A flash caught my attention from the corner of my eye.  Beneath my plane dirt and powder plumed.  The most powerful tank Saunders could muster nested on the hill overlooking the battlefield.   Side faced and fearsome was the Sherman Firefly.

 

“Miho, Sherman Firefly on the hill!”

 

Another shot soared across the sky burying itself in the Mallard Team.  The tank rocked from the shot before raising its white flag.  The fastest of Miho’s formation broke from the swirling melee and charged toward the hill, others pushed closer to the Saunders tanks to use them as shields.  The heaviest and slowest tanks formed on the Tiger (P) shielding the flanks of their flag vehicle.  The Firefly’s turret slowly turned as their marksman prepared to fire. 

 

_Not much I can do, but I need to do something._

 

The Spitfire lurched toward the hill, daring to get as close to the ground as possible.  I made a beeline straight toward the massive cannon, trying to screen the shot with the flimsy airframe.  Whatever ammunition I had left rattled harmlessly off the thick armoured turret.  The Firefly hobbled back and forth trying to get a clear shot.  Suddenly a bright white streak soared beneath my propeller and drove into the side of the Firefly.  Smoke rose from the engine block and the white flag popped out.

 

“We’ve got her, thank you for screening” said Miho.

 

“You’re welcome.”

 

“Head back to base, Johnny.  You look really beat up.”

 

I lightly chuckled, “Yeah.”

 

“Miho, break away from the enemy tanks.  Bomber babes are beginning their attack run” reported Relay.

 

In an instant the remaining tanks punched through the enemy lines and sped across the field as fast as they could.  Saunders’ tanks scrambled to pursue while others pressed on to our base.  The Hetzer fired shot after shot as it advanced.  Sparks exploded from the tracks shattering the suspension.

 

“Bombs away” warned Melody.

 

The great Lancaster dropped a massive amount of bombs, each one whistling the impending doom.  The five hundred pound bombs crashed into the ground in a storm of dirt, smoke, flashes, and thunder.  The Hawaiian wind pushed the smoke away as if it was raising the curtain to a play.  The battlefield was strewn with small craters and defeated tanks.

 

“How many did we get?” asked Melody.

 

“Sorry, we didn’t see the strike” said Miho as the Panzer IV blitzed to the objective.

 

“I can’t tell either” My Spitfire passed the Lancaster, “There were active mixed with defeated, it’s almost impossible to tell.  Relay, how are the fighters doing?”

 

“All fighters are returning to base.  No one was shot down, no additional kills –“

 

“Miho, there’s a B-17 on its way, spread out!”

 

“Except for the B-17” interrupted Relay, “They got him, Captain.  Miho, ignore what the Cap said.”

 

The wheels hopped on the hard ground as the engine slowed and purred.  The rushing wind overpowered the sounds of the machine and pushed against the landing flaps.  I threw open the canopy as the plane ground to a halt.

 

“Get this thing ready to go ASAP!” I ordered, “Load APTP (armour piercing tracer practice) rounds in the cannon and AP in the machine guns.  Go!  Go!  Go!”

 

The mechanical team ran into action carrying belts of ammo and repair kits.  The surviving fighters were close behind rushing their landings.  Piccadilly and the others were in the lounge watching the match on a borrowed television.

 

“Match concluded” said a voice over the speakers and radios, “Objective zone captured…”

 

My heart skipped a beat.

 

“By Ooarai Girls Academy and Bluebird Squadron.  Congratulations.  All teams return to bases.  Congratulations Ooarai Girls Academy and Bluebird Squadron.”

 

The squadron cheered and clapped at the victory, but I couldn’t join in the revelry.

 

_My wing was nearly eliminated.  Bombing attacks did minimal damage at best.  There’s nothing to be proud of.  A narrow victory won’t draw in new recruits.  We need a decisive win, an unquestionable win.  And then there’s Nolan…_

 

The lounge was filled to the brim with high spirits.  Drinks flowed from glass bottles into big mugs.  Fried food was put about the tables and disappearing into their gullets.  Melody put on a swinging record in tune with the mood.  Relay was seated by the chess table with a small notebook and the scoreboard close by.  Lucky walked into my office carrying all the film reels from the battle.

 

“And how many did you get?” asked Relay

 

“Just one” said Smilin’ Susie.

 

“We’ll have to confirm it with the footage.  Any unique way to identify it?”

 

“It was the B-17 mate, and there was only one of them.”

 

“Right then, the B-17” noted Relay, “Huh, looks like you and five others got him too.”

 

“What?”

 

“Not a full kill lad, but a sixth of one” winked Relay, “Alright, next up.”

 

“Hey Captain!”

 

_Damn, I almost got in my office without being noticed._

 

“We did it, Cap.  We got past the first round!”

 

“Hurrah!”

 

“Yeah, we did” I said holding the door knob, “If you’ll excuse me I need to get some work done.”

 

“Won’t you celebrate with us, Captain?” smiled Nolan, “You got two kills, and I scored my first!”

 

“Here, here!”

 

Every single fuse in my mind set off at once.

 

“You have nothing to celebrate!” I barked, “That stupid maneuver you pulled almost got you killed!  You were damn lucky that I came out of the blackout just in time to dodge you!  That reckless and blatant –“

 

Ashley stepped in front of me, “Captain, I think you’re being too hard on –“

 

“Can it rookie!  As for you, that reckless and blatant disregard for your own safety will not be tolerated!  And I don’t care if you got the guy on my tail!  If you ever pull that kind of shit again I won’t just ground your sorry ass!  I’ll kick you straight out of the squadron!  Do I make myself clear?”

 

“Crystal” he replied.

 

Nolan stormed out of the lounge to the stares and silence of his squad mates.  The lads stared at me in astonishment, any merriment and jubilance had been swept away by my furious rant.  Each one of them dropped their gaze as soon as my eyes swept across the room.  Words stuck in their throat wanted to blurt out but there was only silence.

 

“Carry on” I said entering the office.

 

I grabbed the assorted pages and sheets around the office, the red folders and dossiers.  Beyond the door I could faintly murmuring and soft conversations.

 

“Holy Hell, I’ve never seen the Captain that mad before.”

 

“Nolan didn’t deserve that.  Fuck.  Think he’ll leave?”

 

“We can’t afford to lose a pilot.  Kid’s rash, headstrong, but he’s good.”

 

“What happened up there?”

 

“The kid did a high risk head on.”

 

“We’ve all pulled some high risk maneuvers before.  Hell, Sugar’s Blues pulls some of the riskiest maneuvers I’ve ever seen!  Why the hell did he go off on Nolan like that?”

 

“Someone could have died.”

 

“We know the risks when we signed up for this.  Accidents can happen, but we’ve got the skills, the knowhow, hell the balls to –“

 

“You weren’t there.  Not back then.”

 

“What are you talking about?”

 

“Two years ago –“

 

“Shut up Lucky.  We don’t talk about it.”

 

“What happened two years ago?”

 

“We’ve said enough.  It’s between the commanders and we’re not talking.  You want an answer ask the Captain or Relay.”

 

“Don’t put me on the spot Lilly.”

 

“Relay, what is wrong with Sugar’s Blues?”

 

“I won’t betray his trust.  He will tell you when he thinks its right to do so.”

 

I opened the door and walked across the room.  The room went silent again, eyes fixed on their feet.

 

“I can hear you through the walls” I said.

 

The halls of the school were nearly barren, only the odd student stuck in detention sulked about.  At the end of the hall was a wooden door that looked like it was out of a 1930s P.I. movie.  “Excalibur Newsroom” was painted in black courier letters across the blurry glass window.  Inside desk upon desk of students dressed in fine shirts and wearing visor caps pushed away at their typewriters.  It was difficult to imagine how one could stand the dings and slides of the machine for hours on end.

 

“Uhh… excuse me, where’s the Editor-in-Chief?” I asked one of the lackeys.

 

The boy glanced at me through the top of his glasses and rolled his eyes.

 

“In the office at the back, knock before you enter” he said as he edited the printed page.

 

The back office was a glass cage.  The brown blinds lowered to keep prying eyes at bay.  Just like the front door a name and title was painted in black letters: Benjamin Mercer, Editor in Chief.  Beneath the name was the school crest imposed on a long scroll.

 

“Keep to the facts Paul” said a voice through the door, “We’re journalists, not authors and this looks like a bad fan fiction.  Cut out this, this, and this.  Give it another go, then back to me.”

 

“Right” a dejected freshman walked out of the office scribbling on the page.

 

“What do you want, Captain?” asked the Editor-in-Chief, “I’m a busy man, just like you.”

 

“Fine, I’ll cut to the chase then.  I want to see the article regarding the CATAC Match today.”

 

Ben smirked, “You must have amazing faith in our abilities to think we can finish an article so soon.  Unfortunately, the article is still being drafted, come back in a few hours and I might let you see it.”

 

“Give me what’s written then” I demanded, “I want to make sure –“

 

“If you dare to try to censor us the Student Council will hear of it!  Freedom of the Press is guaranteed under the School Charter, and I will not be bullied by some airborne, gung ho Cockney!”

 

“I want to make sure that you aren’t skewing the facts.  The squadron is on its way back up and the paper hasn’t always given us the credit that’s due.”

 

“The paper has always been unbiased and factual; the squadron’s performance over the past five years warranted those articles.  If your flyboys are bringing back old glory like you suggest then the paper will reflect that.  I will not sacrifice the integrity of the news for the benefit of one club.”

 

“I’m not asking you to sacrifice your integrity; I’m asking that you get my input before the article is published!”

 

Ben fell into his seat and folded his hands, “Come back in a couple of hours and I’ll let you _see_ the final draft before it’s published.”

 

“Fine” I grumbled, “Just one more thing…”

 

Ben’s eyes widened in disbelief, “One more thing?  I’d rather not have another shouting match if you don’t mind.  Now, please, leave.”

 

I pulled a page from the many folders in my bag.

 

“Can you at least publish this ad in your paper?” I asked, “The squadron wants new members to join in the... flight to victory.”

 

Ben examined the page thoroughly, “What monkey did you get to draw this?”

 

“I drew it.”

 

“I take it back; you _should_ have gotten a monkey to draw this.  Why didn’t you get Regal fellow to do it? I’ve seen him sketching around the campus, he has to be leagues better” Ben shook his head, “Jimmy!  Look up some old RAF posters circa World War II!  Rework this piece!”

 

_No need to be an ass about it._

 

“Once it’s reworked I’ll put in in the paper.”

 

“I want to see the redone –“

 

“With the article.  Let me make this perfectly clear.  **I’m not promising any changes.** To the article or the poster.  You’ll only get to see them before their published, do whatever PR crap you want based off that.  Good day.”

 

I stepped out of the newsroom disappointed and unhappy.  The two men waiting in the hall made my day much worse.

 

“We need to have a talk Mr. Walker.”

 

“What now Willy?”

 

“I’m _President_ Billy!  Anyway, we’re here to remind you of your little deadline and your lack of progress.  Remember you need forty members by the end of the tournament.”

 

“And our observations say you haven’t added a single one” said Willy, “Not good, Mr. Walker.”

 

“Not good at all” said Billy, “Perhaps this is a waste of time.  Do you think we should disband the squadron immediately, Vice-President Willy?”

 

“I’m not sure.  Do what you think is best President Billy.”

 

“Let’s have Mr. Walker defend his position.  Well Mr. Walker, you haven’t added a single member in the first couple months and your expenses have been reduced only marginally.  So, what do you say Mr. Walker?”

 

“We just won our first match –“

 

“On a wing and a prayer.  But please, continue.”

 

“I’ve spoken with the Editor-in-Chief and he’s going to run an article about the squad and publish the recruitment posters I’ve requisitioned.  Once news gets out we’ll get a bunch of rookies.”

 

“He sounds rather confident doesn’t he, President Billy.”

 

“Indeed, Vice President Willy.  Well Mr. Walker, I hope your right” Billy turned around and waved me off, “Good luck in your next match Mr. Walker.”

 

“It’s Captain” I grumbled under my breath.

 

The locker door slammed shut and the lock spun round and round.  Running shoes fit snuggly but smelled horribly.  The PE kit was light and breathed easily.  I started a quick walk outside of the school doors and headed toward the ferries.

 

_There’s enough time for a run around Honolulu, then it’s back to the grind._

 

“Relay to Sugar’s Blues, are you receiving Sugar’s Blues?”

 

“Relay?  What are you doing here?” I said jogging on the spot.

 

“Well I thought things could go for a change.  Instead of you coming up to see me, I would come down to see you.”

 

“I’m going for a run mate” I said, “I’ll meet you at the lounge when I get back if you want.  Talk to you later.”

 

Relay grabbed my arm, “No.  I’ll go with you on your little jog.”

 

“But you can’t move that fast, sure you can keep up?” I asked looking at his leg and cane.

 

“Perhaps, you should slow down” he replied, “Take a walk this time.  Relax and smell the roses so to speak.”

 

“Alright.  Let’s take a walk.”


	9. Chapter 9

Relay limped beside me on the sidewalk.  The afternoon sun was blazing brightly.  Students from both schools walked about the streets taking advantage of the few precious hours before departure from paradise.  Sweat beaded on my brow and Relay’s shirt was starting to drench and soak.

 

“You were too hard on the boy” said Relay.

 

“The kid did a high risk, head on maneuver with guns blazing.  You and I both know how dangerous that is.”

 

“He tried to save your skin and to show you and the other boys that he’s an asset.  These rookies want to be treated like regular pilots.  And they proved it to you during the match, but you stomped on those hopes almost immediately.”

 

“He disregarded safety for a win, I won’t tolerate that.”

 

“Safety.  Says the man who pulls some of the riskiest damn things anyone has ever tried.”

 

“I’m always in control, and I never put someone else at risk.”

 

“Now you do, back then…  Look, I know you want to keep everyone safe.  Hell, even I don’t want a repeat of that.  But you can’t scare everyone like that.”

 

“I don’t want to scare them.  I want them to stay in one piece!”

 

“You can’t keep dwelling on two years ago.  It happened, it’s horrible, but we’re here now.  You’re Squadron Leader now; you need to look forward dammit!”

 

“Hello boys” sang Saori.

 

“We’ll continue this conversation later” whispered Relay.

 

“Good afternoon, Ms. Takebe, Ms. Nishizumi, Ms. Isuzu, Ms. Reizei, Ms. Akiyama” smiled Relay, “What brings you from Ooarai today?”

 

“Shopping!” said Saori excitedly, “It’s our last day on the island and we want to make sure we’ve done everything.”

 

_Uh oh, my wallet might feel it today._

 

“Oh, Saori” sighed Hana, “We’re headed to the park right now, just for a little stroll and to enjoy the weather.”

 

“Hi Captain Walker!” said Yukari, “It’s been a while.”

 

“Yeah, it sure has” I said politely, “How are you?”

 

“Great!  So what was it like flying against the Mustangs?  How fast were you going?  Did you out run them or did you have to do ACM to get the advantage?  How many kills did you get?”

 

“In order of your questions:  It was a challenge, roughly 300 – 400 km/h, I had to use ACM since Spitfires turn better, only two.”

 

“Oh and about the match, thank you for coordinating everyone Reginald” said Saori.

 

“Yes, thank you for warning us about the enemy planes and brining the bomber to help us” said Miho, “You really saved us up there.  And you too, Johnny.”

 

“Thanks, you did a great job breaking through the enemy lines” I said.

 

“Thank you, it was a bit of a challenge being outnumbered and all.”

 

An awkward silence ensued.

 

Relay clapped his hands, “So, let’s head to that park then, shall we?”

 

The peaceful and serene park was perfectly maintained.  The palm trees swayed in the breeze while the wind whispered to the red blooms of the shower trees.  Hawaiian ducks swam in the ponds with their little children following in line.  Flower bushes and beds were arranged into intricate designs amid the grassy knolls.  The sided of the neat footpaths were guided around the park by ankle high hedgerows. 

 

People lay on the grass, tossed balls and discs around, or pursued their little outdoor hobbies.  There were several couples in the park that day smelling the flowers and holding each other arm in arm.  Needless to say, this made the circumstances more awkward.

 

“Bikes!  Bikes and carriages here!  Hey there sonny, how about a tandem bike for you and your special lady?” beckoned a peddler.

 

_Sure, if I had a million dollars to spare._

 

“No thanks mate, we’re enjoying the walk” I kindly declined.

 

“You might be but my legs are tired” said Relay waving his card.

 

“But Mr. Ramsey, is it safe for you to ride a bicycle?” asked Yukari.

 

“Please Reginald, don’t hurt yourself” said Hana.

 

“Don’t worry, I’ll be fine” he said finishing the transaction.

 

“Relay, how exactly are you going to ride the bike with a bum leg?” I asked half joking, half concerned.

 

“Oh I’m not riding a bike.  You are.”

 

The attendant rolled out a pair of tandem bicycles and a carriage.

 

Relay took his seat in the carriage and grinned, “Well Johnny you were saying how you wanted a little exercise today so take your place on the bike.  Ladies, who would like to sit with me and who would like to try the tandem bikes?”

 

With the help of the attendants and a few tumbles, we learned how to use the redundant bicycle.  The romanticised rickshaw strolled down the park paths.  The wind cooled the sweat on my brow.  Yukari was eagerly chatting with Relay, while Mako purred as she napped.  Hana and Saori rode beside us, their hair flowing in the wind.  Miho politely smiled as she rode tandem with me to pull the carriage.  Our little group glided down the paths through the rows of flowers, the sweet smell making the tough slog to pull Relay a little more pleasurable.

 

“Do, dum, do, dum, da, da, da, da, do, dee” hummed Relay.

 

“What song is that?” asked Saori.

 

“Oh it’s a little ditty about a couple riding a tandem bike” he said.

 

“Is it romantic?  Can you sing it for us?” asked Saori wide eyed.

 

“It might be a little romantic” Relay mumbled, “Unless you sing the reply verses.  Ahem, just a sec, I’ll sing you the chorus.”

 

Relay:

 

Daisy, Daisy give me your answer do

I'm half-crazy,

All for the love of you.

It won't be a stylish marriage

I can't afford a carriage,

But you'll look sweet on the seat

of a bicycle built for two.

 

“That’s a pretty tune.  A shame he can’t afford the carriage though” said Saori.

 

I cleared my throat, looked and Relay and sang:

 

Relay, Relay here is my answer true

You can't sing

As well as you think you do

So please stop your squawking,

Lest you want them gawking

For I'll be switched if you sing that pitch

When I'm on a bike for two

 

Saori scowled, “That's mean Johnny!”

 

Relay smirked:

 

 

Sugar’s Blues listen when I tell you

When you sing

You make my ears bleed too

If you insist on mocking

I will keep on squawking

So look ahead or we'll be dead

'cause you crashed that bike for two

 

Relay chuckled and said to Saori, “It's all in good fun, why don't you try singing a verse.”

 

“Oh, I don't know I'm not very good at that.”

 

Hana’s elegant voice floated through the wind:

 

Soari, Saori, come on and sing a tune

You've got a voice that makes the boys swoon

You’re sweet and nice and bubbly

And oh, so very cuddly

So come and sing a little thing

On this bicycle built for two

 

“Hey, she’s got it” I said, “You’ve got a nice voice, Hana.”

 

“Thank you.”

 

“Excellent verse, miss” said Relay, “Well, Saori, have you got a little verse for Hana?”

 

The ginger haired Saori thought for a few moments and to the melody sang:

 

Hana, Hana, you're real pretty too

You'll get a boyfriend,

The same time as I do

When I have a bridal shower

Will you arrange the flowers?

Can you make it neat, cheerful, an’ sweet

Around a bicycle built for two?

 

“How'd I do?” asked Saori

 

“That was good, Saori” said Miho

 

Mako opened her eyes for a brief moment, “Not bad.”

 

Saori smiled and pointed, “Now it's your turn Miho.”

 

“Oh, umm... I'm not sure”

 

“You can do it Ms. Nishizumi!” said Yukari.

 

“Umm… Okay, here I go.”

 

Miho sang in her soft voice:

 

Everybody, I’ve something to tell you

I love all of you and that's the truth

Since we met in the beginning

I haven't stopped grinning

And it's really neat to be on a seat

Of a bicycle built for two.

 

Our little band continued through the park trading verses to the song as we went.  Yukari sang a verse about tankery.  Mako sang a monotone tune about the morning.  We laughed at the silly songs and the witty replies that followed.  I got caught up in the silliness and said something I shouldn’t have.

 

“Miho, Miho, let me sing to you.  You’re oh so pretty, you know that don’t you.  Your eyes shine and glitter, sorry if I jitter.  But you look sweet upon the seat of a bicycle built for two.”

 

When I had realized what I said, it was too late to take it back.  Hana and Saori glanced at me, and with a gentle sly smile they sped ahead of the carriage.  Yukari had trapped Relay in another conversation about planes and tanks, so I hope the verse went over their head.  Mako was snoozing again, but she might be a light sleeper.  Miho looked to the side to “admire” the empty field, but I could tell her shy timid nature that I put in an uncomfortable spot.

 

“Johnny, Johnny” she nervously sang, “I don’t know what to tell you, but your singing’s pretty bad through and through.  Thanks for saying I’m pretty.  It makes me kind of giddy. What do you see for you and me –“

 

“Hello Miporin!”

 

“Oh, hi Kei!” smiled Miho.

 

Our little group came to a stop.  Kei came walking down the path with two other girls.  The first girls was tall, had short grey brown hair and light brown eyes, and was chewing on what I suspect was bubble gum.  The second girls was shorter than Kei, about the same height as Miho with dark brown hair arranged in two short high pony tails.  She had brown eyes and freckles across her face and the bridge of her nose.

 

“Hi girls!” said Kei, “Oh, Captain Walker didn’t see you there.”

 

_Really?  I’m at the front of the bike for crying out loud._

 

Kei walked right passed me and toward the carriage, “Who are you?”

 

“Blunt little lass aren’t you.  Very American” smirked Relay, “Reginald ‘Relay’ Ramsey, Coordinator of Bluebird Squadron.”

“So you’re the guy that directed the bomber to us?”

 

“I suppose so, yes.”

 

“Awesome!” cheered Kei, “Those bombs make a hell of noise and shook us up right royally.  It was exciting!”

 

Relay was a little dumbfounded by Kei’s enthusiasm.  In the moment of quiet I took the opportunity to introduce myself to the two other ladies.

 

“Afternoon.  Captain Johnny Walker, but you can call me Sugar’s Blues.”

 

The grey haired girl popped a pink bubble, “Sugar, eh?  They call you that ‘cause you’re sweet to the ladies?”

 

She ran her finger over my chest teasingly.  Miho and I looked at each other with nervous looks.

 

“Umm… you forgot the ‘Blues’ part” I said pushing her finger away.

 

“Are you a little sad?  Because I can cheer you up” she said pulling me close.

 

“I hope you’re not trying to steal Miho’s boyfriend” said Kei.

 

“Help.  Please” I said with a quivering voice.

 

“Stop teasing the boy, Naomi” said the freckled girl, “Howdy, I’m Alisa and this flirt is Naomi.”

 

“Naomi is the gunner of the Firefly you screened for us” said Miho, “I didn’t know she was so flirty though.”

 

Naomi’s face wrinkled, “Wait so you’re the Spitfire that blocked my shot at the flag tank?”

 

“Umm… yes?”

 

Naomi glared at me, “Ha! Look at this guy’s face, he’s so confused.  That’s how you do it, girls.  Flirt for a few seconds, pull them in, and then get a little mad to push them away.  You know what Sugar’s, you’ve got some cojones to charge a Firefly like that.  I had half a mind to shoot you down with my cannon.”

 

“If you did that shot would’ve torn my wings off.  I’m lucky that Hana got you before you got the chance.”

 

“Yeah, she’s a great shot.”

 

“So, what brings you to the park, Kei?” asked Miho.

 

“Nothing in particular.  I hope we didn’t interrupt your date.”

 

Miho and I glanced at each other trying to read each other’s minds.  Were we on a date or was this just an outing with friends?  If we disagreed would this put our relationship in danger, not that we are in a relationship in that sense… were we?

 

“So… where’s Ted?” I asked trying to change the subject.

 

“Oh he’s preparing his team for the next match in a couple of weeks” said Kei.

 

“Right, you’re up against Sturmovich.  Don’t worry, Ted’s a good pilot.  You’ll have clear skies.”

 

“He’s good alright” said Alisa, “But clearly not good enough to stop you guys.”

 

“So Sturmovich is in the air, what tankery school will you be facing?”

 

“Pravda.  It’s sure to be an exciting match!”

 

“Well we wish you the best of luck” I said.

 

“Oh, eager to get back on your date?” insinuated Kei, “Well don’t let us stop you!  Bye, bye!”

 

“Well she’s an odd one” I said to Miho.

 

Miho smiled, “She’s nice though.  Come one we should continue our –“

 

“Bike ride through the park.  Our little ride through the park.  With friends” I said.

 

“Subtle” mumbled Relay, “Now in the words of the Canadians, Mush!”

 

There were only a couple hours of the afternoon left when we returned the bikes.  With the exception of the awkward conversations and insinuations by Saori and Hana, the outing was a nice distraction.  That’s right, a distraction from the inevitable hard conversation with Relay that would follow.

 

“That was a wonderful afternoon.  I never thought a bicycle built for two could be so fun!” Saori sighed and happily at Miho and me, “Or romantic.”

 

_Why?  Why did my day have to involve this boy crazy girl?  Why?  Someone help, please!_

 

“Can we get something to eat?” asked Mako drowsily.

 

“Certainly” said Hana, “Would you like to join us?”

 

“No thank you” said Relay, “Sugar’s Blues and I have some matters to discuss.”

 

“Well, good bye then” said Hana in her graceful voice.

 

“See you” said Miho with a smile, “Thank you for the great time.”

 

Relay’s face became stern and hard, “Now back to Nolan.”

“I’m not apologizing” I replied with equal sternness, “Recklessness shouldn’t be tolerated.”

 

“Are you listening to what I’ve been saying?  You’re just as reckless if not more so!  Even worse is that you’re one of the instructors to the trainees and they pick up these damn habits from you!”

 

“I don’t teach them to pull stupid shit and risk collisions!  I drill them hard, I drill them long, and I teach them what they need to in order to keep the team alive!”

 

“That doesn’t change the fact that they look up to you and the other commanders.  You might drill, and train, and teach, but once they’re in the air, they see you throwing that out the window and doing all that crazy shit!  They want to impress the old guard and prove their worth, boy.  And they can’t do that if their running scared of their superiors.”

 

“Is everything okay between you two?”

 

Miho stood behind us a little frightened from our shouting bout.  Our flaring tempers calmed and faded thanks to her presence, but our animosity still created friction.

 

“Just a small argument” I said, “Did you need to ask us something?”

 

“Oh, no, I just wanted to” Miho paused for a moment, “What are you arguing about?  I might be able to help?”

 

Relay scratched his head, “Perhaps some arbitration might resolve our issue.  We’re having a little dispute about one of our team members.  The kid pulled a dangerous maneuver to help the Captain.  It worked out though.”

 

I crossed my arms, “And if it failed our planes would have been shredded and we might have suffered some broken bones or worse.”

 

“And if he didn’t you might have passed out from exhaustion and crashed anyway” added Relay, “Don’t deny it.  I heard you over the radio straining and breathing heavily.  A few more minutes and another series of hard turns and you might have lost consciousness.”

 

“Well, why did he pull that maneuver?” asked Miho.

 

“I had a bandit on my tail and no way to shake him off.  Nolan quickly came up with a plan to help each other out.  We went head on against each other.”

 

“He must have a lot of trust in you if he took that risk” said Miho, “What did you do?”

 

I sighed, “I threatened to kick him out of the squadron.”

 

“Well, I don’t think that’s fair” said Miho.

 

“Thank you” said Relay.

 

“But he shouldn’t do something that will put people in danger.”

 

I smiled at Relay satisfied.

 

“What would you do then?” asked Relay.

 

“Well, I think you’ve done enough already.  From what I heard, he’s scared of you now.  If anything, he should be rewarded for his quick thinking” Miho explained, “Sometimes you need to do something stupid to help someone in need.”

 

“Don’t take this the wrong way” I said, “But what would you know about doing something stupid to help someone in need?”

 

Miho shied away and looked at her feet, “A lot actually.”

 

We were silent for a few moments. 

 

Miho collected herself and continued, “When I was commander of Kuromorimine, one of the tanks slipped and fell into the river.  The crew was stuck inside and the tank was sinking.  I abandoned my tank and dove into the water to help.  We almost drowned.  Looking back it was dangerous to dive into the river, but I wanted to help my team mates.  I know your situation is different, but I think Nolan genuinely wanted to help you.  He looks up to you.”

 

After her tale, Miho silently turned away and left.  Her words were a lot to think about.  The ferry back to Excalibur was silent as I pondered the Miho’s counsel and Relay’s wisdom.  The sun was beginning to set, its brilliant rays dancing off the crystal surface of the sea. 

 

“Pretty view isn’t it.”

 

Relay patted my shoulder and whispered, “I’ll leave you to your… escapades.”

 

“Akebi, paying one last visit to paradise?”

 

Her sweet smile made me feel a little bit better, “Yes, with the rest of the team.”

 

The rest of the volleyball team sat in the seats glancing over their shoulders and smiling at us.  Akebi leaned forward against the rail and let the wind blow her hair.

 

I leaned back against the rails, “So, did they like the shirts?”

 

“Oh yeah, they loved them” she replied, “They were a little jealous of the necklace though.”

 

I suddenly noticed that Akebi was still wearing the seashell necklace I bought her a couple of days ago.

 

“So anything special on the last day?” I asked.

 

She shook her head, “Not really.  We tried some of the local food.  There’s a strange obsession with spam here.”

 

I chuckled, “Nice to know there’s one place in the world that has made worse food than Britain.”

 

“Oh, no it was quite good.”

 

 

“Oh, I almost forgot, did you want to study together tonight?” she asked innocently.

 

_Oh, I wish I could._

 

“Umm… I have several things to do tonight; you know post-match commander responsibilities and such” I said, “Rain check?  How about tomorrow?  I’ll drop by your place this time, and I’ll do the cooking.”

 

“Here’s my address” smiled Akebi, “Sounds like a plan.”

 

Taeko walked up to the prow, “Sounds like a date.”

 

_Not you too._

 

“What’s this about a date?” asked Shinobu.

 

Noriko smirked, “It’s a good thing I like you Sugar’s Blues.”

 

Akebi’s cheeks blushed bright red, “No, we’re just –“

 

“Studying” I said, “I’m having a bit of trouble with my literature course and Akebi offered to help me.”

 

“Yeah” said Akebi.

 

“Oh, sorry.  I didn’t mean to embarrass you” said Taeko, “You’re in good hands Sugar’s, Akebi loves literature and theatre.”

 

“So I’ve heard” I said cordially, “I look forward to learn everything from you.”

 

We looked over the sea toward the horizon.  Far from shore our school ships waited for the last group of students to return.  I never noticed it before, but Ooarai was fairly small.  Excalibur was several kilometers long to accommodate our airfield and the required facilities.  The control towers loomed beside the ships edge and Little Ben could be seen in standing in the centre of the city.  Above, the blue sky began to turn to a black velvet blanket.

 

“Look, the first star of the night” said Akebi.

 

“Make a wish” I said.

 

“But it’s not tanabata” said Shinobu.

 

“Hmm?”

 

“It’s a star festival in Japan.  That’s when we wish on a star” explained Taeko.

 

“When’s tanabata?”

 

“July or August” replied Noriko, “So keep that wish handy until then.”

 

“Heh, heh.  That’s a long ways away.  I’m not sure I can remember it for that long, so if it’s alright by you I’ll go ahead and wish on this star” I said.

 

“So… what’d you wish for?” asked Noriko.

 

I pressed my finger to my lips, “Can’t tell you or it won’t come true.”

 

“That’s silly” said Taeko.

 

We had a light laugh at the superstition as the ferry drifted across the sea.

 

When the ferry pulled alongside our gigantic school ship, Relay and I went our separate ways without a word said to each other.  I headed toward the school to check with the Editor-in-Chief.

 

“We’ve been trying to get a hold of you for the past two hours” complained Ben, “Where have you been?”

 

“I got caught up with a couple of the girls from Ooarai and the ferry was late.  Anyway, where’s my article and poster?”

 

“You mean _my_ article and the reworked poster” Ben handed me several sheets of paper, “I hope everything is to your liking.  I know it is to mine.”

 

“That’s wrong.  None of the Typhoons were shot down.  The wing split, two on ground attack, two returned to support.  The rookies didn’t flee, they drew two fighters away from the main bomber” I corrected, “Who the hell is your source?”

 

“Spectators, and video footage from the match” he replied, “And how do you know what happened up there?”

 

I rolled my eyes, “Are you really asking that dumb question?  I’m the damn SQUADRON LEADER!  I’m the guy giving the orders up there.  Some random spectator doesn’t even know the slightest what we’re doing up there and footage has no context.  What monkey did you get to write this?”

 

“I wrote it!”

 

“Let me rephrase that” I tore the article in half, “You should have gotten a monkey to write it.”

 

Ben’s eyes followed the paper as it fluttered to the ground, “How dare you!  Get out!  Get out!”

 

“Not until you write an article with the real facts!”

 

“And who am I going to get it from?  You?  The Squadron Leader has his own agenda.  I can’t trust your word!”

 

“Ask the wing leaders, the pilots, Relay, the rookies!  Anyone part of the team, they’ll give you the truth!”

 

“And how do I know you haven’t given them a gag order or told them what to say?”

 

“I didn’t.”

 

“I have no guarantees” replied Ben taking his seat, “I want the truth just as much as you do, but I can’t trust your word or the word of the squadron, too much bias.  I refuse to publish anything you write, and you just tore up our only draft.  So what do we do, Captain?”

 

“The film reels from the planes, and the radio transcripts, can you do something with those?” I conceded.

 

Ben slyly smiled, “Perhaps.  It would definitely work for this match.  Getting an article out as quickly as possible and getting all the angles is one of the most important things in journalism.  Reels and transcripts take time to analyze; it won’t work in the long run.”

 

I clenched my fist, “What do you want?”

 

“I want one of my lackeys to be present during your strategy meetings and in your control tower during the matches.  He can listen to the radio then and there and make sure all the facts are right.”

 

“No, not during the strategy meetings, those are classified.  We can’t risk the other team learning about what we’re doing.”

 

“Very well, but I still want my man in the control tower.”

 

“Fine, but I get to approve all articles.”

 

“No, I won’t have you censor us.  You get to review and suggest corrections, I approve them.  Deal?”

 

 

“Fine.  Deal.”

 

“Good.  Come back tomorrow morning, you can see the draft then.  By the way, what did you think of the poster?”

 

I looked at the image and text, “Looks good, publish it.”

 

The airfield basked beneath the twilight.  The orange glow on the horizon turned our planes into silhouettes as the mechanical team pulled them into the hangar.  Around the hangars, the mechanics drank and ate before beginning a long night of work.  They gave me a wave or salute as I passed, which I politely returned.

 

A stack of film reels greeted me on my way to the office.  The chairs had been pushed aside to make room for the projector.  The white screen stood in front of the dart board waiting to receive the black and white images.  Eight silver pans held the silver-brown film within.  Taped across the top were names and dates: Piccadilly Lilly – 30th March, Lucky Lady – 1st May, so on and so forth.  The reels flickered and rattled and spun.  The silent film showed the skilled members of our squadron diving and turning and weaving and climbing.  The dared to approach within feet of enemy planes and flew in close to their allies and performed tandem maneuvers at high speed.

 

I didn’t notice the door creek open or the shadow that walked in.

 

“What will you do?” it asked.

 

“About what?”

 

“You know what.”

 

I stared at the film in silence for a few minutes more, “We’re going to say good-bye.”

 

“What?!”

 

“You heard me.  We’re saying good bye to Nolan Coventry and Ashley Waters."


	10. Chapter 10

The morning came with the gloom of grey clouds and overcast.  If the English breakfast I ate that morning was any indication of the day to come, it would only be slightly worse than it usually would be.  The bacon was crisp but the eggs were runny, the sausage was plump but dry and I had cooked far too much spam.  After the hearty breakfast I quickly threw on my uniform and donned the squadron jacket.  I grabbed the stack of papers by the door, my satchel of texts, and bolted out the door.

 

I walked across the airfield as the morning dew slid off the blades of grass.  Wing leaders, Piccadilly Lilly and Lucky Lady, waited at the lounge door with five other figures.  At their feet were two parcels.  The wing leaders leaned against the wall while the five lads asked them questions.  They responded with simple or single word answers, or redirected them to me.

 

“Good morning gentlemen,” I said coldly, “Is everyone inside?  Is everyone ready?”

 

“Yes sir.”

 

“And who are you lot?”

 

“We’re looking to join the Bluebirds, sir.  All five of us” said the first of the group.

 

“Do you have any idea what you’re getting yourselves into?” I asked.

 

“We saw your match with the Ooarai girls” said the second.

 

“So in other words, very little” I wrapped my hand around the door knob, “Well, let’s drop you in the deep end and see if you can swim.”

 

“Attention!”

 

The entire squadron snapped straight.  To the right, the fighter pilots, to the left the bomber crew and directly in front of them were the rookies: Nolan Coventry and Ashley Waters.  Every single man had tier eyes fixed forward, arms straight, chin held high and faces stern and hard as steel.  The five behind me shook in their uniforms but they dared not to make a sound.  The silence was deafening.  I walked straight up to the two and looked them straight in the eye.

 

“Ashley Waters.  The pilot who might as well be afraid of his own shadow.  Every time we go up, you hesitate, you quiver, and I’ve yet to see you hit a single plane.  Tell me, why did you want to join AirCom?”

 

“I – “

 

“I don’t care!  And you, Nolan Coventry.  You’re arrogant, self-absorbed, and have aspirations of leadership despite being completely incompetent!  Furthermore, you don’t want to take any off the class lessons to heart even through the rest of the squadron and I have been drilling the same thing over and over again into your head!  And I’m sure that I don’t even have to mention your reckless neglect of safety that almost got both of us killed!”

 

“With all due respect –“

 

“I did not give you permission to speak!” I yelled, “Rookies, remove your jackets!  Do it!”

 

The rookies reluctantly removed their jackets to the stiff stares of their comrades.

 

“Gentlemen!  Today we say good-bye to Ashley Waters and Nolan Coventry.”

 

I didn’t need to turn around to see the looks of absolute terror that swept over their faces.

 

“Ashley Waters, you’re hesitant and lack any raw talent and I’m almost certain that in a one on one fight you’d be shot down in a second flat.  But you’ve shown that you’re willing to learn and you’re a good wingman, to an extent” I took the parcel from Lucky Lady, “Farewell, Ashley Waters.”

 

“Nolan Coventry, you’re arrogant, reckless, and don’t work well with others.  On our first match you disobeyed orders and dove after a pair of bombers only to get shot down.  You’re raw talent and skill mean nothing if you don’t learn from your failures.  But last match it seems like something got through that thick skull of yours” I took the parcel from Piccadilly Lilly, “Farewell, Nolan Coventry.  Open your parcels!”

 

Two new leather jackets rose from the boxes.  The school crest on the left shoulder, the squadron crest on the right, and on the back their personal sigils.

 

“Brooklyn Betty” said Ashley staring at the jacket.

 

“Naughty Nancy” said Nolan.

 

I winked, “Congratulations.”

 

“For they are jolly good fellows, for they are jolly good fellows, for they are jolly good fellows.  So say all of us!  So say all of us!  So say all of us! For they are jolly good fellows, for they are jolly good fellows, for they are jolly good fellows.  So say all of us!”

 

The rookies breathed a sigh of relief while the other members clapped and patted them on the back.  Relay, who hid in the corner, nodded his approval.

 

“Three cheers for the lads” said Smilin’ Susie.

 

“Hip, hip, hurrah!  Hip, hip, hurrah!  Hip, hip, hurrah!”

 

“Alright lads, let get on out of here!  Class starts soon!  Wing leaders and Melody stay with me, we’ve got some pieces of business to attend to.”

 

The squadron filed out of the lounge and across the field to wherever their first class would be.  Piccadilly Lilly, Lucky Lady, Melody and I remained behind to deal with the five new guys.  The five lads were still shaking from my little rant.

 

“So you lot” I said as I removed my jacket.

 

The boys stopped shaking and immediately snapped to attention.

 

“I think you scared them” chuckled Lucky.

 

“Don’t worry” said Piccadilly, “The captain isn’t normally that hard on people.”

 

“He’s right.  I’m much worse.”

 

Melody rubbed the back of his head, “Keep that up and you’ll scare them off before they get a chance to go up.”

 

“Fine, fine” I said, “First thing’s first, how many hours?”

 

“How many hours what?”

 

“Flying kid,” said Lucky, “This is a club about aviation.  How many hours have you been in the air?”

 

“Umm… zero.”

 

“Jiminy Cricket” said Piccadilly Lilly, “Zero experience, what in the world can we do with that?”

 

_We can’t turn away pilots, even if they might be a liability.  But with zero hours what good could they be?_

 

“Ashley and Nolan barely had a few hours under their belt and they’re turning out okay” said Lucky.

 

“But they’re aviation students, we didn’t have to teach them from scratch.  How about you gits, you aviators?”

 

“No, we’re in general studies.”

 

Piccadilly buried his face in his palm, “Tell me you took at least one aviation course.”

 

“Sorry, but no.”

 

“Brilliant.”

 

“We could always use another bomber crew” said Melody, “What do you say, Cap?”

 

_That could work.  We get five new members, but only add one plane to the roster._

 

“Well lads, you up to being the second bomber crew?”

 

“You mean we get to fly that huge bomber the uh…. The Lancaster?” said the first with a grin.

 

“Put them in the Wellington” I said, “It’s a good starter for you lads.  Melody, you might have to split your crew to teach them everything.  If you work hard Melody might let you take the Lancaster up for a quick spin.”

 

“Only if they work their asses off” said Melody, “Report back here after classes every day this week.  The five hours after classes will be hell!  We’re going over everything: take off, landing, maneuvers, bombing, gunnery, radio operation, navigation, everything!”

 

“And that’s only after the classroom instruction led by us” I said, “Bring note books, pencils, anything and everything you need.  Before you get up in the air you need to know what keeps you up and what takes you down.  We’ll go over the theory, formation flight, target identification, and basic tactics.  This is the meat grinder boys!”

 

“At the end of this you’ll either wash out and walk away, heads held low with the shame that you failed to become a Bluebird, or you’ll survive and fly proudly beside us in your bomber” said Lucky Lady.

 

“So, are you ready?” asked Piccadilly.

 

The recruits looked around at each other and then meekly said, “Yes.”

 

“We can’t hear you!”

 

“Yes!”

 

“Yes what, rookies?”

 

“Sir, yes, sir!”

 

“Excellent.  Now let’s get to class before the teachers throw us in detention for being absent.”

 

It was a fortuitous state of affairs that my desk happened to be by the window.  The long boring drones of the teacher went in one ear jumbled in my brain for a bit before promptly exiting out the other.  Not to say his words didn’t stick however.  I vaguely remember mentions of a chap named Father Lawrence, a headstrong schmuck names Mercutio, and the asshole of a cousin Tybalt.  The tapping of chalk against the blackboard kept me from completely dozing off.  Piccadilly sat beside me scribbling notes but equally bored.

 

“And gentlemen this is important.  Here we note the obvious neglect of Romeo’s first love without much of a rhyme or reason despite her several mentions prior.  Note the strange occurrence that Rosaline is a niece of a Capulet.  We should also note that Rosaline does not actually ever appear in the play.  Now, some scholars suggest that Rosaline and Paris, the subtle characters in the play, are simply reflectors for the actual romance of Romeo and Juliet.  This leads to several possibilities that blah, blah, blah, blah, blah…”

 

_Ugh… and there he goes to blaze the trail of literary history that nobody gives a damn about._

__

“And that concludes our lecture today.  And now a pop quiz!”

 

The class nearly jumped out of their seats.  The small stacks of paper dwindled as it made its way down the rows.  The quiz was twenty questions, all multiple choice.  I scratched my head with my pencil, frustratingly staring on the questions.  The minutes ticked by and students rose from their desks to hand in their finished tests.  I struggled to answer the questions, guessing on at least half of them.  The final bell rang just as my sheet found rest on top of the pile.

 

“Wait Mr. Walker” the teacher clicked the devil’s red pen.

 

A few moments passed as red ink scrawled across the sheet.

 

“I doubt I need to show you the results” he said sliding the quiz to the side, “Remember what I said Mr. Walker.  You must pass the next exam otherwise you will be forced to leave AirCom.  Good luck.  You will need it.”

 

 

Ben walked down the hall with a copy of the school paper, “I have good news, Mr. Walker.  You made the front page.”

 

I snatched the paper from his hands and carefully read every word:

 

  _Bluebirds soar higher than Eagles.  Ooarai Girls Academy bests Saunders!  This week was the first official round of the CATAC Tourney and our own Bluebird Squadron took part.  In an intense battle over the skies, three of our squadron were shot down.  In a desperate assault against a Flying Fortress, Spitfires of Wing Able were ambushed by a coordinated strike of the Screaming Eagle’s P-51 Mustangs.  Only through the last second intervention of the Typhoons led by Richard “Lucky Lady” Sharpe and the two rookies Nolan Coventry and Ashley Waters prevented the annihilation of the last Spitfire._

_Meanwhile on the ground, tankery forces led by the unorthodox Miho Nishizumi were able to hold Saunders at bay. Bomber Command’s Lancaster took the field early on to support the attack dropping thousands of pounds of bombs on the battlefield, but scoring few hits.  However the valiant girls of Ooarai rallied behind their commander and punched through the enemy lines and mixed in with Saunders’ tanks. The girls of Ooarai had to continue fighting with minimal air support.  Bomber Command would attempt another attack moments before the end of the match, but the effect was minimal._

_With lighting speed, Miho disengaged and risked it all by driving straight for the objective zone.  Under heavy fire, victory was achieved!  Bluebird Squadron and Ooarai Girls Academy press through to the second round._

_Casualties for the airborne squadrons were as follows:_

_Screaming Eagles: Four shot down, one crippled_

_Bluebirds: Three shot down, two crippled._

“Come on mate” I shoved the paper into his chest, “Half this article is about the tankery team!  You’re the Excalibur Newsroom not Ooarai’s.  Why aren’t you writing more on us?”

 

“Well it’s too late to retract it now.  If your team does something a little more fantastic I’ll write more.  For now, the girls of Ooarai seem to be carrying you from where I stand” Ben waved as he walked away, “Good luck in the next round.”

 

_I wish I could smack that smug look of his stupid face.  At least the print is better than the first draft._

The five rookies were all waiting in the library turned AirCom classroom.  Melody and the other Bomber Babes were outside going over the aerial training session.  Elsewhere on the field fighters were going on sorties to practice every single one of their skills.  Before stepping into the room to give a long and boring lecture on safety, formations, operations, and a slew of other topics, I returned to my office to dust off several very old books.  Time had preserved the books well, but even the dust on the covers had dust on it.

 

“Alright lads, your time in Hell begins now” I slammed the books onto the table, “Each of you take one of these.”

 

A rookie read the cover, “Wellington Mk X Flight Manual.” 

 

“I want you to read this cover to cover.  Memorize every page, every paragraph, every sentence.  Once your done read it again until you can quote it chapter and verse both forwards and backwards.  And in case you are wondering we will test you on it.  You won’t know where, you won’t know when, but it will happen and if you fail, you’re out!  Do I make myself clear?”

 

“Sir, yes, sir!”

 

“Good.  Now let’s begin.  Formation flying in a bomber is very different than a fighter.  The size and weight of your aircraft means you can’t maneuver as well nor does it respond to controls as smoothly… Radio contact is of upmost importance … Your formation leader will call out a bearing then count down to the start of the turn…  This formation here is what you will be flying with the Bomber Babes… mutual fire support is key… when flying with fighter escorts…”

 

The lads frantically wrote across their note pads and copied the messy diagrams on the board.  By the time I had finished the board was a mess of smudged chalk and illegible scribbles.

 

“Alright now it’s time for some practical experience.  Follow Melody if you please.”

 

The recruits filed out the door asking each other questions and comparing notes. 

 

Dipsy approached me, “Are you really going to test them on that entire manual?  I don’t think I even finished it when I was trained.”

 

“I’d hurry and finish then.  You’re test is next week.”

 

His face turned white.

 

“I’m kidding.  I want them to be the best they can and reading the manual is one step in that process.  Keeping them on their toes with a test that will never come will make sure they read it.  Also, I like to torment rookies now and then.”

 

I followed the bomber into the sky to join up with Fighter Group.  For the next few hours we trained hard.  Nancy was a little more receptive to advice from the veterans and Betty was more fluid in his maneuvers.  The dogfights and ground strikes continued until the sun began to set.  All the planes hopped across the runway as we landed into the waiting and eager arms of the mechanical club. 

 

I kicked off my shoes and threw off my jacket, the satchel of books haphazardly thrown into the middle of the room.  A wonderful stretch and a yawn plopped me onto the floor.  I basked beneath the cold white glow of the buzzing incandescent light before rolling over to crawl to the kitchen for dinner.  As I sprawled across the floor one of my text books caught my eye.

 

_Romeo and Juliet.  Why is it important?  I mean, I know the test is coming up but there has to be… oh shit!_

 

I jumped to my feet and threw open the fridge and cupboards.  Cans and leftovers and old vegetables covered the counter and table tops.  Stained pages of a cheap paperback cookbook flipped rapidly.

 

_How could I forget!  Come on, something quick, something easy, something!  Just something!  Anything!  I can call Angus… if I wanted to be an accomplice to murder._

 

Early evening on the high seas was a beautiful sight.  A few of the naval students were particularly happy about the omen on the horizon.  ‘Pink sky at night is a sailor’s delight’ they would say.  Or was it red? Doesn’t matter I’m not a sailor.  Akebi’s little apartment was nestled away in a small neighborhood near the port side of the ship.  With a deep breath I knocked on the door.  The lock tumbled and the door slowly opened.

 

“I kind of forgot I was cooking, so I brought take-out.  So I kind of owe you –“

 

Standing in the doorway was an image I won’t forget.  The varsity athlete wore a pair of black athletic trousers and a light red t-shirt with a couple of flowers imprinted on the fabric.  Her signature spiral of hair was tucked behind her ear.  The white headband had disappeared letting her blonde fringe fall free and frame her face.  The rest of her hair was released from its tie and waved down her back.  A warm pair of slippers kept her little feet warm.

 

“A dinner” I finished while staring at her, “I feel a little overdressed.”

 

“Oh, sorry I was kind of cleaning up” she said letting me in, “My apartment is kind of a mess.”

 

The apartment, or to be more accurate, the room was cramp and confined but homely.  There was a small table in the centre of the room with four pillows surrounding it.  A futon (I think that’s what it’s called) was rolled into the corner with the blanket and pillow lazily thrown on top.  A lonely volleyball rolled across the floor and bumped into a few books and binders.  On the side tables, where pictures of family would be, were pictures of the Ooarai volleyball team in their happier days.  Pinned on the walls were a couple pennants and an Olympic poster of Japan’s Women’s Volleyball Team in 1964.

 

“They won gold” said Akebi.

 

“Amazing” I picked up the volleyball, “You really love this sport don’t you?”

 

“We all do” Akebi took the volleyball and rolled it over her shoulders, “One day, we want to win an Olympic gold too.  It’s kind of a silly dream, but it’s ours.”

 

“I don’t think it’s silly.  If you don’t shoot for the stars, you’ll never reach them.”

 

Akebi warmly smiled, “So shall we eat?”

 

Two dishes, a pair of chopsticks, and a single fork soaked in a soapy bath.  Warm take-out waited in the kitchen begging for someone to finish it.  The table was bare except for what we needed.  Akebi sat close to me, almost resting on my shoulder like the ride on the ferry.  I would show her a passage and explain my thoughts after which she would nod politely before correcting me.  Sometimes we would read the lines as if we were actors.  It made the session more enjoyable, but I worried that it may have had another effect too.

 

“Let’s go back a bit” I said flipping the pages, “How about this character, Rosaline.  From what we’ve read she doesn’t seem to appear at all but she’s mentioned several times.”

 

“Rosaline, Romeo’s first love, is a plot device.  You see, the only reason Romeo meets Juliet is because he hears a rumour that Rosaline will be at the same ball.”

 

“So Romeo ditches her for Juliet, that’s kind of cold.”

 

“Only a bit, Rosaline never actually had feelings for him anyway.  And Romeo just infatuated with her beauty.  It wasn’t love.”

 

“Kind of like his love with Juliet.”

 

“Initially, but it does grow into true love.”

 

Our fingers wrapped around each other as we turned to the next scene.  As quick as a jungle cat we quickly pulled away with blushing cheeks.  The evening softly drifted into night, the stars twinkling in the black velvet above.  My arm was wrapped around her body, while she rested her head against my shoulder.  The beating of my heard thumped just a little bit faster.  Akebi’s eyes sparkled when they met with mine.  Her soft, tender face was flushed red, and I could only imagine what my face looked like to her.  A thousand thoughts ran through my head.

 

“Thank you, Akebi” I said, “You were a great help.”

 

“You’re welcome” she yawned.

 

“I… It’s getting late, I should get going.  Thanks again.”

 

“Good night, good night.  Parting is such sweet sorrow, that I shall say good night till it be morrow” recited Akebi.

 

“Act 2, Scene 2” I recalled, “Good night, Akebi.”

 

The lads were going over the checklists prior to take off to the afternoon practice.  I had just finished the lecture with the new recruits before I passed them off to the Bomber Babes for the rest of their week in Hell.  Before leaving the practice ground I grabbed the letters and envelopes n my desk.  Just as I had expected, a large brown envelope bore the seal of the CATAC tournament.

 

_Looks like Willy got it together and finally delivered a letter on time._

 

“Melody, you ready to go?”

 

“One sec.  Dipsy, Brooke, take those three up in the Wellington, run them through the stations.  Rose, take the others in the Lancaster, do the same but take extra time on navigation and radio.  Got it?  Good.”

 

“Another command meeting?” asked Dispsy, “Who are we fighting against?”

 

“Don’t know” I held up the envelope, “I haven’t opened it yet.”

 

The girls from Ooarai came to Excalibur this time.  Melody and I rolled out a whiteboard and pulled down a projector screen.  With a little help we arranged the desks.  The room quickly filled and the meeting was underway.

 

“So why are we meeting so early, our match isn’t for another month” asked Asuza, “Don’t we usually meet only a couple of weeks before.”

 

“More preparation is always better” said Erwin.

 

“Our performance in the previous match was less than satisfactory” said Momo, “We need to develop a more comprehensive plan gear our practices toward executing our strategies.”

 

“Remember what Clausewitz said, ‘No plan survives first contact with the enemy’” I said, “Good afternoon ladies, Commander Miho.”

 

“Good afternoon, Sugar’s Blues” said Miho.

 

Anzu put up her feet, “Let’s get this meeting started.”

 

Momo took her place beside the whiteboard, “We’ll be facing Kuromorimine in the next round.”

 

All the tank commanders turned pale in horror.  There were mutterings of ‘mouse’ here and there along with a few anecdotes about the tankery finals.  I couldn’t make out a lot of the stories, but they were clearly frightened.

 

“Shouldn’t be that much of a problem for AirCom” I said, “Last I recall Kuromorimine’s force is primarily composed of Panzer III’s and IV’s supplemented by a few Panthers and tank destroyers.”

 

“You’re tanks are a hodgepodge but they should be able to take out most of them.  And you beat them last year too, right?” said Melody.

“Kuromorimine changed their force composition after the Tankey Finals last year” said Miho, “They will field mostly Panthers, Tiger II’s, and heavy tank destroyers.  The flag tank will be Maho’s Tiger I.  The next round also allows for up to 25 vehicles so we will be outnumbered at about three-to-one.”

 

“Odds worse than the last time” said Sodoko.

 

“What about AirCom?” asked Momo, “Who will you be up against?”

 

“Let’s take a look” I tore open the envelope, “Jaeger Squadron of Richthofen College High.”

 

_Saunders’ got Screaming Eagles, Pravda got Sturmovich, and now Kuromorimine got Jaeger.  Random team assignment my butt!_

 

“Oh, well that’s just great” said Melody.

 

“Are they tough?” asked Nekota.

 

“They’re the second strongest team” I said, “They’re led by Otto Bahn von Dusseldorf ‘das Blitz’.   They’re the second ranked squadron.”

 

“Bomber crews from the other teams call them the ‘Sturmwind’.  They swarm around bombers like a thunder cloud and strike like lightning before you can react.  I honestly don’t remember being able to drop a payload when I faced them” said Melody.

 

“On the bright side, they won’t fly any bombers, except for maybe a pair of Ju-87s, but I wouldn’t count on it” I said.

 

“You said they were the second strongest team” said Yuzu, “Where do you stand?”

 

“Fifth” I said.

 

“Out of five _real_ contenders” said Melody.

 

Morale dropped like a brick.  Ooarai barely scratched a win last year against Kuromorimine, and Jaeger has been our rivals since the beginning.

 

“Everyone” said Miho, “We can’t give up yet.  We’re not the same team as last year.  We’ve grown and learned a lot since then and this tournament is just about Tankery.  It’s about working together with the boys from Excalibur too.  Kuromorimine won’t be expecting an attack from the air and Jaeger Squadron might have beaten the White Knights, but they’ll be facing _Bluebirds_ this time.  We can do it.”

 

_Short, but it might be enough._

 

“Miho’s right!” said Noriko.

 

“Kuromorimine is strong” said Azusa, “But we can be stronger.”

 

“Aye!”

“Alright, let’s come up with a plan” said Momo, “This is the map for the battlefield.”

 

The area was rather open with few forests or urban areas for the tanks to take cover in.  Wide rivers broke the area into four distinct bodies: a large square island in the centre, a peninsula to the east, and open steppes to the north and south.  To cross from one area to another, forces would have to cross a series from seven bridges.  Four bridges, two each, connected the north and south to the island.  One bridge from both the north and south connected to the peninsula, and a single bridge connected the peninsula to the island.  It was difficult to see, but it looked like there were a few small buildings at the end of each bridge, like a checkpoint of some sort.  A large hill dominated the peninsula, while the island dipped into a small valley. 

 

“Can you bomb and destroy the bridges?” asked Momo.

 

“With live bombs maybe” said Melody, “But tournament rules dictate that we have to use the ‘Party Poppers’.”

 

“Okay, so scratch that plan” said Erwin, “How about covering the bridge at low altitude?”

 

“With the Wellington, maybe.  The Lancaster will have a tough time and we’ll separated and open to fighter attacks” said Melody.

 

“Fighter escort can’t keep you safe?” asked Yuzu.

 

“Fighter Group will get torn to shreds if we do that” I said, “Planes need altitude and speed to be effective.  If we drop and stay there, we’ll be too slow to mount a counter offensive.”

 

We sat for a couple hours debating plan after plan.  If the tanks cross the bridge, they will get picked off by Kuro.  If AirCom drops to support, Jaeger will attack.  Abandon the bombers to engage the fighters and Jaeger will split to compensate.  Stick to the bombers, we can be picked off.  Tanks stay put, battle of attrition whittles them down.  AirCom practice ended and the squadron members funnelled in to join the meeting.  By the end of it we were all getting frustrated.

 

“We need a break” said Piccadilly, “before our tempers get out of hand.”

 

“Have you girls been to the lounge yet?” asked Memphis, “We’ve got a couple things there you might enjoy.”

 

“Let’s get something to eat first” suggested Nakajima, “You guys know any good place to order from?”

 

“Who needs delivery when you’ve got me” said Smilin’ Susie.

 

“I know a place” Peacock dialed on his mobile, “You’re skills aren’t needed, Susie.”

 

While we waited for the food to arrive the girls from Ooarai were invited into the lounge.  Melody put on some smooth music while a few of us pulled a few chairs in from the library.  Most of the time was just a little chatter between the crews.  Noriko and Memphis were hurling darts, while Peacock faced Nekota across the chessboard.  Piccadilly and Lucky mesmerized four girls with the billiard balls as they clacked and rolled across the velvet surface.

 

“Trying to figure out how it’s played?” I asked Miho.

 

“I think I’ve figured it out” she said.

 

“Want to give it a shot?”

 

“Oh, no I don’t think I’d be very good” said Miho.

 

“Don’t worry, we’re all just having fun here” I said.

 

Lilly pocketed the 8-ball.

 

“Rack it up Lilly” I said, “Here take a shot.”

 

Miho gingerly took the pool cue and leaned across the table.  The chalk tip was nearly touching the ivory cue ball.  She pulled back as far as she could and with all she could muster shot the cue forward.  The end of the stick scratched against the velvet and bounced into the ball.  The cue ball leaped and rolled off into a side pocket.  Her face said, “I’m so sorry.”  Lucky plucked the ball from the pocket and placed it in the kitchen.

 

“Mind if I show you?” I asked.

 

“Please” she said handing me the cue.

 

I took Miho’s hand and guided her into the proper position.  Together we stood only slightly bent over the table.

 

“Take your free hand and create a bridge,” I helped Miho move her fingers into the form, “Good.  Now, rest the pool cue right on top of your hand.  And raise the bridge just a bit so the cue lines up to the centre of the ball.”

 

“Okay” she said softly.

 

“Now pull the cue back, too far.  There, right there.  Now, shoot!”

 

I released my light grip on the cue as Miho pushed it forward.  She hit the ball flawlessly into the colourful formation.  The balls scattered in every direction with a satisfying clack.  And to her surprise one rolled right into the corner pocket.  It may have been my imagination, but I caught Noriko’s glare from the corner of my eye.

 

“I got one!” she exclaimed.

 

“Good break” I said, “Now line up another shot and try to sink a solid ball.”

 

Regal started to walk around the table, sketch book in hand.  He got on his toes, took a knee, and stood on top of chairs.

 

Regal hunched over, “Wait.  Hold that pose.”

 

Lucky was standing to the side of the table with a hand in his pocket and the cue pointed straight up like a spear.  Yuzu was leaning against the pool table with the cue across her lap waiting for her chance.  Piccadilly was beside her holding a drink and chatting her up.  Miho and I were once again leaned over the table lining up the next shot.

 

“Regal, why are you standing on a chair, _and_ hunched over?” asked a frozen Yuzu.

 

“Sometimes you need to see things from a different perspective” he sketched quickly.

 

_That’s it!_

 

“Okay, you can move now.  Thanks.”   

 

“Miho, ladies, and gentlemen, how about we make our joint practice this weekend a little different?” I asked.

 

“What do you mean?” asked Momo.

 

“Well, how about we trade places?” I said, “Tank commanders can see what it’s like up in the air and Fighter Group can see what you girls on the ground do.”

 

“Interesting” said Miho, “But why?”

 

“Regal said it best.  Sometimes you need to see things from a different perspective.  Maybe you girls can come up with some ideas by being on a plane, and the boys can understand how combat on the ground goes and help you out.”

 

“I can certainly take them up in the bombers” said Melody, “And it would be nice to get some new company in the least.”

 

“We’ve got a couple of Swordfish too we can fly tandem in” added Checkmate, “So girls, what do you say?”

 

“I don’t know if it will help” said Momo.

 

“It won’t hurt to try” said Anzu, “A different perspective might be just what we need, and we still have lots of time until the match.  But it’s up to Miho.  So, what do you say commander?”

 

 “Let’s do it.”


	11. Chapter 11

The weekend was here and a new experience waited across the waves. I gave the boys a quick briefing about what was happening and what they were to undertake. The girls arrived just before noon and appeared very excited. Several tables had been set up on the field with the necessary kits. 

“Afternoon ladies, I hope you’re ready to see things how we do.”

“Absolutely!”

“That’s the spirit. Melody, they’re in your hands now. Clear skies ladies.”

“Alright girls, head over to the table and grab a kit” said Melody, “Nancy, Betty! Those Swordfish were supposed to be out of that hangar one hour ago. Get to it!”

When I arrived with the lads, we were greeted to a different sight. With the exception of Sodoko, who was frantically trying to get the team to adhere to public morals, everyone was just hanging around their tank tending to their hobbies. Hippo team was talking about topics that would normally bore me, Rabbit Team gossiped and giggled, Leopon tinkered with their tank while Anteater faced off across digital screens. And dressed in red and white, Duck Team was passing around a volley ball.

“We’re ready to start when you are” said Momo.

“Alright, let’s get going” I said walking to the Type 89.

“Piccadilly Lilly is in the Type 89, I’ve put you in the Panzer IV” said Momo.

“Hey Lilly, want to trade spots?”

“Sure, but don’t blame me if you’re the first out.”

“You can’t do that!” protested Momo.

“Relax Momo-chan” said Yuzu, “It’s not a big deal. By the –“

“Don’t call me Momo-chan!”

“By the way, how was the President?”

“She’s in good hands” I replied, “So, what’s the plan today?”

“The crews will teach you all the stations, after that we’ll do a practice match as we usually do” Momo informed us.

Momo dismissed the lads and we went to join the tank crews. 

The first thing we did was clean the tank. I picked a bad day to wear the team uniform. After the soapy, muddy, dusty time I was drenched from head to toe. Shinobu, Akebi, and Akebi laughed and giggled through the entire chore and their presence made it a merry time. Next was off to the range and unfortunately for them, I was the driver.

The Type 89 was much smaller on the inside than I expected. The interior was horribly cramped, hot, and stuffy. There were only two seats, one of which I stole from Shinobu, which meant half the crew must stand the entire time. The large 57mm shells were arranged in neat racks behind my seat. Beside me, Taeko was monitoring the radio.

I swear my cockpit has more room than this.

I stared at the various levers and knobs, “Okay, so how do I work this thing?”

Shinobu leaned over, “Hit the ignition, then gently push the gas and release the clutch.”

The Type 89 growled to life, the engine roar was deafening. The metal rumbled and clicked. I pressed the gas and the tank started to move.

“Hit the break!” said Akebi.

I slammed the break causing the tank to lurch to a halt. We rocked in the metal monster nearly smacking against the hull.

“What happened?”

“We were going backwards, you almost hit the wall” said Akebi.

“Move that stick to put it in drive” said Shinobu, “Those two over there control the tracks.”

“So far so good” I said.

“Don’t forget to shift when the RPM gets high” instructed Shinobu.

I peered through the small driver’s window, “This thing’s lined with carbon, right? How exactly does that stop a tank shell?”

“Don’t think about it too much” said Taeko, “It’ll just make your head hurt.”

“Roger that.”

Much to my disappointment the speed of the tank was not what I had hoped. While soaring above the battlefield at speeds in excess of 250 km/h it is difficult to tell how fast ground forces are moving. The maximum speed of the Type 89 was roughly 26 km/h but Shinobu assured me that the team was capable of pushing their tank to about 30 km/h if not more. The small tank rolled across the field toward a small practice range.

“Take a look through the sight” said Akebi, “Now those triangles are called stritch. The large one is –“

The cannon blasted the shell through the barrel and toward the dirt hill. The metal vibrated like a gong making my ears ring. The bright tracer shell soared across the range followed by a barrage from the other tanks. An explosion kicked up the earth just in front of the target.

“Huh, short by 2 meters? Maybe 5 meters” I muttered, “Okay, so how do I load this thing?”

The girls stared at me, astonished by my accuracy. Even though I didn’t hit, it was damn awful close.

“How did you… Do you already know how to target using strich?” asked Akebi.

“Hmm? No, I’ve never used that method before. I just did what I do when shooting at planes. I looked through the sight, the target looked about 500 meters away” I said, “The deflection… err, elevation felt right so I just fired.” 

“Well, you’re not a bad shot” said Akebi, “Want to learn how to hit the first time?”

“Shoot.”

Duck Team took me through the ins and outs of targeting, range finding, and shooting for tanks. It was quite a task. In a fighter you get on the tail let out a burst, watch the bullets fly, adjust, rinse and repeat. Tankers however utilize a strange system of triangles and measurements before taking the shot. Bomber Babes would’ve probably had a better idea of what they were doing. After the practice range, it was time to put what we learned into action.

“Sugar’s Blues, how about you take the commander position” said Taeko.

“Sure, but wouldn’t one of you be better suited?”

“To be honest” said Shinobu, “We’re probably better suited to our stations, since you’re tank skills… aren’t as… developed?”

“But you’re still a brilliant pilot!” said Akebi trying to keep me encouraged.

“And you have more command experience than all three of us combined” said Taeko.

“Heh, heh. Well, I’ll leave the tank things to the tank girls then” I said taking the commander’s position, “Shinobu, roll us out!”

“Panzer vor!” she said.

The Type 89 rolled a little bit faster than when I was at the helm. It was still no Spitfire though. The entire Ooarai armoured column advanced as one toward the arena before splitting off into every direction and disappearing over hill and way. The tanks were split into two teams. Over the radio we quickly determined who the field commander was and, for one reason or another, my team picked me.

“Alright, so we’re doing Tankery Tourney rules” I said to my crew, “Taeko, have all units sign in and give their location please.”

“Okay” said Taeko, “All tanks, report in. Anteater is at point E5, Hippo at C3, and Rabbit at B2, we are at A1.”

“Shinobu, take us to B5 as fast as we can. Taeko have Rabbit rendezvous meet us there, and tell Anteater and Hippo to meet each other at D1. Once we meet up with our wingmen, have all tanks advance to Easy-1. Akebi, keep your eyes open for enemy tanks, and don’t be afraid to take a shot.” 

“No problem, but we might not be able to penetrate anything” said Akebi.

“Understood” said Taeko, “All tanks rendezvous with allies at the following locations: Anteater and Hippo to D1, Rabbit to B5. Proceed to D1 after rendezvous. All tanks report they will comply.”

The Type 89 drove around smoothly as we proceeded to the rendezvous. As we drove I talked nonchalantly with the girls. It was just like flying with the lads 3000 meters up before a battle. I popped open the top to let fresh air flow into the tank. It was a strange feeling to be going into battle beneath the tree tops. The sound of thunder in the distance, the whoosh of rushing wind drew closer. A massive round crashed into the ground behind us with a great boom!

“King George’s Sceptre!” I dropped into the tank buttoning the hatch, “Return fire! Reverse libero! Reverse libero!”

“Don’t worry” said Akebi perfectly composed, “Looks like that shot came from a kilometer away the odds of hitting us are pretty slim. Also we can’t penetrate from this range.”

“Well let’s at least go faster!”

“Alright” said Shinobu revving the engine.

The Type 89 surged forward with a speed I didn’t think possible: 40 km/h. (I know exactly what you’re thinking and yes, 40 km/h is astonishing… when you’re in a Type 89). 

The Type 89 stormed across the field taking fire from an unseen foe. Shinobu abruptly turned the tank barely dodging a shot from the front. I peered through the cupola and looked straight down the barrel of the Hetzer. I hollered at Akebi to fire at the tank. She took a moment to remind me that punching through the armour would be difficult but I had her fire anyway. The shell harmlessly bounced off the sloped armour.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“Our gun isn’t as powerful as the others” said Akebi, “Sorry.”

“Shinobu keep us moving. Taeko, how far from point B5? And check in on the other tanks.”

“Anteater and Hippo have met up but are under attack, Rabbit is on its way” said Taeko.

From what I could see our opponents were the Hetzer close by. The B1 was far off taking pot shots at us but refusing to move.

It’s a recon sweep.

“Oh Lilly” I muttered, “Shinobu, drive right passed the Hetzer and head to Checkpoint Charlie, Taeko get the Rabbits to meet us there and have the others circle around behind the Char B1. Akebi, throw rounds into anything we pass. It doesn’t matter if we penetrate or not.”

“Sugar’s Blues what’s going on?”

“It’s a fighter tactic Lilly and I like to use on combat patrols. All units abandon safety to find the enemy. Once found the wingman will move to assist while the other groups continue to sweep.”

“But the B1 is already attacking us” said Akebi.

“That’s not the wingman.”

As those words left my lips a shot tore through the earth beside the tank. From behind the crest of a knoll the Panzer IV reared its ugly head. 

“Striker, boot it!”

The Type 89 retreated, nearly scraping sides with the Hetzer. The turret turned and fired a desperate shot and through Akebi’s expert marksmanship or divine intervention the shell struck and shattered the tracks rendering it motionless.

“Have a taste of your own medicine! Yahoo!” said Akebi.

The Type 89 and Panzer IV exchanged shots as they scurried across the field. And like the cavalry from an old western movie Rabbit Team appeared with guns blazing. The Panzer IV weaved to dodge, but unlike our planes the movement was clunky and rough. Shinobu spun the Type 89 and with firepower of two tanks we pushed back Piccadilly Lilly.

“Focus fire on their tracks” I ordered, “Get us as close as possible.”

“Captain! The other tanks are here!” said Taeko.

“Good, tell them to focus fire on the flag tank.”

“Not ours, theirs.”

A mighty blast signalled the arrival of the unstoppable Tiger (P). A large tan blob advanced, the lumbering Char B1. The Hetzer had repaired its track and entered the fray. Two versus four. Bad odds even for an ace pilot.

If I were in a plane, I’d just weave through the enemy formation taking shots as I went. My wingman would follow and do the same. Well, no reason we can’t do that.

“Taeko, who’s in command of Rabbit?”

“Yuuki.”

“And the radio op?”

“Regal Seagull.”

“Tell Regal: Half Split, we lead.”

“What?”

“He’ll know what it means. Shinobu, which team do you like the least?”

“Hmm, probably the Mallards.”

“Alright. Take us right up close to them then turn right, try to get them to follow. Akebi, don’t stop shooting at the Char B1 until I tell you. After the Char, go for the Hetzer. Break! Break! Break!”

Shinobu expertly maneuvered the Type 89 to point-blank range with Akebi firing several shots as we went. Our little rounds ricocheted every which way but served to draw their attention. Rabbit team rushed after us firing a volley from both their guns. Their round found a home deep in the armour of the Mallard team. A pop and a step and the white flag flew. The Hetzer was the next target on the list. The tan trapezoid narrowly missed out thin hull, but its round wasn’t useless. Just as Rabbit released their second attack they took the 75mm’s of fury right to their gut. Both tanks knocked out. 

“Damn, still bad odds.”

“We should retreat” said Shinobu.

“Mmm… circle around and charge the Tiger.”

“What?!”

“Charge the Tiger, break to either side when it looks like they’re going to fire then push on throu–“

Four shots burrowed around us shaking the earth. The Tiger’s barrel was smoking and the Panzer IV’s was turning. 

Where did the other two shots come from?

“Uhh… Anteater and Hippo say sorry” said Taeko.

“So the cavalry decided to show up” I smirked, “Tell them to knock out a tank if they want to make it up to me.”

“You got it!”

“Yeah. Striker do what I said before and charge the Tiger, Gunny knock out those tracks when we pass. Talkie, get Hippo to do a boom-and-zoom on the Tiger and have Anteater follow up.”

“Gunny?” asked Akebi.

“Talkie?” asked Taeko.

Out little tank nearly touched the Tiger. Akebi pulled the trigger and landed the shot. The suspension was destroyed. The StuG III rolled straight at the Tiger with gun blazing. Shot after shot landing around the Tiger. The mechanical beast roared with its 88mm cannon. The great shell glanced off the top of the StuG. Hippo didn’t stop and sped away from the battlefield as fast as it could. The slow Tiger turret adjusted and fired at Anteater. In between the beats of a heart the shell impacted the Chi-nu knocking them out of the battle.

Damn.

The Panzer IV turned its turret and fired. Our hull rang like a gong as it glanced off the turret. 

“Don’t stop moving” I ordered, “Keep firing at the tracks, I need a second to think.”

The fight devolved into a swirling melee of chaos. The StuG charged through the battle like a knight at the joust while we in the Type 89 drove circles around our foes. The Panzer IV gave chase like a hound chasing a tally and the Tiger was solid as a rock.

“Gunny, can we penetrate the back of a Panzer IV with this peashooter?”

“Probably.”

 

“Alright, Striker drive straight for the Panzer IV then drift around so we stop at its back, get ready to run if we miss. Windtalker, get tell the StuG to charge straight at the Panzer’s front, fire at will.”

“I’ll need a second to shoot after we drift around.”

“No, don’t stop moving.”

“But –“

“If it feels right, fire.”

With bated breath we executed the plan. Shinobu rushed the Panzer IV as fast as she could go. The 75mm fired, it’s shell slammed into the earth covering our side in muck. The sharp turned threw me and Akebi against the hull then into each other. Dirt and grass was torn and turned into a brown spray. Simultaneously, the Type 89 and StuG fired. The shots impacted with a thunderous boom and a grey cloud of smoke. The Type 89 blitzed away before we had a chance to react. A trick wind cleared the smoke and powder.

“Great shot!”

The little white flag flew shamefully over the Panzer IV. The Type 89 swerved right around and rolled up to our opponents. Both tanks hurled open the hatches and the crew popped out to take a look at each other. Saori and the others leaned out of the hatches exhausted and covered in dust but with friendly, sportsmanlike grins. Piccadilly Lilly stood out of the commander’s cupola and gave me a wave and a salute.

“We did it!” exclaimed Taeko.

“Amazing!”

I couldn’t find the words so I just let out a big ‘yahoo’ and grabbed the nearest person. My enthusiastic embrace found Akebi and the two of us laughed and giggled at our triumph. I can’t remember the last time I smiled so wide. Akebi flipped her hair when I let her go. Shinobu and Taeko were happy as clams, but there was something out of the corner of my eye.

The friendly smiles that ran across Saori’s face had become straight. Hana’s elegant demeanor had become cold. Their eyes briefly glared into mine, but in that moment there was a sense of judgement and perhaps a hint of anger. I didn’t think much of it, there was too much to celebrate and unfortunately analyze for the strategy meeting on Monday.

When all the tanks had been towed back to the hangar both teams took to some well-earned rest and relaxation. Chilled bottles of water were handed out as we sat beneath the hot sun. Some of the lads clambered around other tanks fascinated by how different they were. 

“Hey ladies, how was your flight?” hollered Smilin’ Susie.

Ooarai’s tank commanders walked toward us with shaking knees and tired faces. Some of the girls had grass and leaves stuck in their hair, others were soaked with sweat. Green pleated skirts and white sailor tops had been traded in for khaki trousers and white t-shirts. Heavy bags hung around their waists.

“No time to change?” asked Piccadilly.

“Not really” said Erwin, “And there are no places for girl’s change rooms on your campus.”

“So, how many sorties?” I asked.

“A lot” said Miho, “But it was good.”

“Melody really took you through everything then, eh?”

She sat beside me, “Yeah, I didn’t think it would be so hard to hit planes with those little machine guns. Did you enjoy your time in the tanks?”

“I did, but wow. You must tough as nails to stand up against all those hits.”

Miho giggled. The rest of the time was spent just as a get together between the teams. Nothing fancy, nothing over the top, just a good old fashioned hangout.

“Catch you later girls” I waved.

“Hey Sugar’s,” called Akebi, “You have an appointment with me.”

“An appointment?”

“Yeah, the final act of Romeo and Juliet. Don’t forget.”

“Right, I’ll see you this later.”

Akebi arrived sooner than I thought. I hastily piled my squadron notes and strategy papers and tucked them away from the table. Sugar’s Blues hung over the back of a chair. I chewed on my pen while I read the ye olde English slowly like Akebi suggested. A gentle rapping on my door and just outside was the glowing girl. There was nothing high class about her outfit, just a simple red collared short sleeved shirt, a short white skirt, and black shoes, but it looked very good on her.

“Thanks again, Akebi” I said, “This really helps a lot.”

“Anytime.”

“Hey uh… we’re starting a Midsummer Night’s Dream next week, can you help me with that also?”

“Sure.”

I hugged Akebi, “Thank you so much.”

“So, aren’t you forgetting something?” she asked innocently.

I was drawing a blank.

“You owe me dinner, silly” she smiled, “So, where are you taking me?”

I grinned, “Well, I know a few places.”

I had a pretty bad case of the Mondays after the nice evening with Akebi (and if you’re wondering the answer is no. I’ll leave the meaning of that ‘no’ for your imagination.) I was more attentive during literature and things were making sense. By the time class was over I had several pages of actual useful notes. And before I knew it I was sitting in the strategy meeting with the Ooarai girls.

“So, what’s the plan commanders?” asked Momo.

“Ladies first.”

“Right” Miho took a breath, “Since Kuromorimine is heavily adapted to tight formations, and I think using both of your bombers is key to victory. We can hold them off here, at the bridges near our capture zone while you attack. You are right though, the bombers are very vulnerable to fighter attack, but we can use this to our advantage. The smaller Wellington will lead the attack several minutes ahead of the Lancaster.”

Miho started to draw on the whiteboard, “The Wellington should be able to draw down the enemy fighters letting Fighter Group swoop down and finish them off, if needed. The Lancaster will arrive after and further thin out the enemy for us to break through.”

“What about Fighter Group? Where will they be in the meantime?” asked Melody.

“Fighter Group will be much farther ahead. Hopefully, they can intercept the enemy group before they reach the bombers. If we’re lucky, you will have clear skies.”

“Sugar’s Blues, your suggestions?”

“Right” I took the marker, “We need to change your shooting doctrine. I agree that you need to hold down Kuro somewhere so our bombs can be more effective. So, Kuro likes formations, fine. Drive circles around them, literally. Fire on the move is how we win. If you can keep driving around them they’ll have to either turn their formation, or stop and turn into like a porcupine. Either way, they’re bunched up and you’re free to drive past or whatever.”

“But what about the Hetzer and StuG?” asked Erwin, “We don’t have turrets.”

“Well, you can do what our Typhoons do. Just drive straight at the enemy, firing as you go, drive by and when you’re far enough turn back around and repeat.”

Erwin nodded.

“Alright, let’s make a plan out of this” said Anzu.

After an hour the plan took a good shape. The self-propelled guns will be positioned at the bridges to the island along with the Tiger. Those three will have the crucial job of holding back the enemy. All but two tanks would engage the enemy in the small dip at the island trying to force them to stay put. The Panzer IV and the Type 89 had the most dangerous job. Utilizing the other bridges, they would cross over the peninsula and, hopefully, be able to reach the target zone undetected. To protect the bombers, Fighter Group will lead the way at high altitude and intercept the enemy force. Should we not contact the enemy, the Wellington will be used to draw in the fighters as Miho suggested. All that was left to do was practice and wait. 

“Captain.”

“Afternoon, Piccadilly” I said, “Get the lads together. The plan is set and we need to brief them.”

“Okay, but there’s another matter to attend to.”

A pair of boys stood at attention in the library.

“How long have they been like that?” I whispered.

“I dunno, when was lunch? I’m kidding, they came half an hour ago.” Said Piccadilly, “Good news, their aviation students so we don’t need to go through everything with them.”

“Alright. Boys, listen up!” I said, “I’m your Squadron Leader Sugar’s Blues! If you snicker at my name I will shove my foot so far up your ass you’ll be my new pair of shoes! Do you get me?”

“Yes!”

“Yes what?” yelled Piccadilly.

“Sir! Yes, sir!”

“Good. So, do you like fighters or bombers?” I asked with a smile.

“Fighters, please… sir.”

“Don’t need to call me sir” I said, “Alright, we’ll toss you in a pair of Hurricanes. Piccadilly and I will train you tomorrow afternoon. Go and meet up with Naughty Nancy and Brooklyn Betty. They’ll be your mentors when we’re not around. Now, on to the briefing.”

After the briefing a familiar pair waited in my office.

“What do you two want?”

“Now, now Mr. Walker” said Billy, “You don’t want to get on our bad side now.”

“We are here to check on your progress” said Willy, “It has been a fair amount of time since your last match and the article.”

“So, how many members? In total that is?” asked Billy.

“Twenty-one.”

“Disappointing.”

“Disappointing indeed.”

“But better than nothing.”

“Oh, yes, better than nothing.”

“Do you two want anything else?” I asked.

“Nope.”

“Good luck Mr. Walker. You will need it.”

Jackasses.

Two weeks came and went, with nothing out of the ordinary. The days grew longer and warmer and the seas were rougher and colder. The Atlantic greeted Excalibur and Ooarai with cold icy winds and freezing rain. It reminded me and the lads of home, but I wonder how the girls felt. The warm Pacific and islands of Japan were nothing like this. On a Thursday we could see the coast of Europe. On Friday we swung through the English Channel toward our next destination. On the weekend we made port. Under grey skies and spring rain we disembarked to meet up with the girls for some shore leave.

“Welcome to Kiel” said the ports master.


	12. Chapter 12

The rain came down in buckets and I had forgotten my umbrella at home.  Kiel was an amazing city.  Old buildings were kept in top condition and the streets were spotless.  The folks were friendly, for the most part, and spoke English fluently.  The lads and I walked through the streets perusing whatever caught our attention.

 

“So, what’s the plan for the afternoon, Captain?” asked Checkmate.

 

“Unless this rain lets up we’re grounded” I said, “So lucky you.  Get the day off and do what you want.  As for me, I’ve got to do class instruction with the two new guys.”

 

“Nothing else?” insinuated Susie.

 

“No.”

 

“You sure?  Nothing with Akebi?  How about Miho?”

 

“Drop it lads.  There’s nothing between us.”

 

_I think._

 

The rain fell harder and harder and the harsh wind howled.  Our little group ran into a street side café to wait out the storm.  The coffee and tea was hot and lifted our spirits.  Across the café was a group of boys that kept staring at us.  They were dressed in grey jackets and caps.  The black boots were perfectly shined, their ties were pressed and their pants still had creases.

 

“What’s their problem?” asked Memphis.

 

“Germans, am I right?” said Regal.

 

“Jaeger Squadron” said Piccadilly, “Don’t recognize them though.”

 

“Leave them be” I said, “But keep an eye on them.  We don’t want any trouble.”

 

The mass of grey rose from their table with bottles in hand.  After a few words they walked toward us.  We rose our glasses and greeted them as unwanted guests.

 

“Good day lads” I said, “What can we help you with?”

 

“You are the squadron from Excalibur, no?”

 

“Aye” said Susie, “What of it?”

 

“Ah, good!  We wanted to speak with you.”

 

“Uh-huh.”

 

“We saw your match and were very impressed.”

 

“Really?” I said, “What impressed you?”

 

“Well, we were wondering, how did it feel to be carried by a bunch of girls?”

 

“Ja, how could you be so foolish to lose an entire wing?”

 

Susie rose from his seat.  I grabbed his forearm and he sat back down.  I gave the others a look telling them to stay calm, stay quiet.  The taunting would pass and we would show them how strong we really were in the fight.

 

“Nothing to say?  Hmm?  No excuse for your sorry display?”

 

“Come now, Hans.  Did you really expect anything more from a squadron that has had five years of losses?”

 

“No, I guess not.”

 

Checkmate glared at me, “Captain.”

 

“Easy, Checkmate” I said softly, “Let them talk.”

 

“Have you ever hunted a bluebird, Frederic?” asked Hans.

 

“Nein, I can’t say I have” said Frederic.

 

“It’s pretty easy once you clip their wings” said Hans, “The dumb birds only fly in straight lines so their easy to shoot.  Sadly you have to be quick when you hunt them because they scare very easily.  Like little blue cowards.”

 

“Okay, go ahead guys!” I said.

 

In a split second we threw off our jackets and grabbed the boys from Jaeger.  Both sides threw punches and kicks.  Knees and elbows drove into guts.  I took several hard blows to the face in the flurry and blur of the brawl.  Through the cursing and shouting we somehow managed to take it outside in the street.  A few other members of Jaeger were passing by and joined the brawl.  A crowd had gathered to watch and cheered or shouted.

 

“ACHTUNG!”

 

The Germans quickly dropped their fists and snapped straight.  Smilin’ Susie took advantage and swung a few hard hits.  It took three of us to pull him away kicking and shouting.  Our faces were swollen and a little bruised.  Memphis had a black eye and the lot of us had bloody noses.  I guess we were lucky nobody lost some teeth. 

 

A large man with a very stern, almost furious, face stood on the street with arms crossed.  He wore a double breasted grey jacket with six buttons.  The collar was black and the lapels were grey.  Beneath the jacket he wore a black shirt and around his neck he wore a medallion that resembled the Iron Cross.  His cap was grey with a black band and had a yellow eagle on the peak.  The commanding figure had short blonde hair and bright blue eyes.  In his pale hands he held a pair of black leather gloves.

 

“Vhat is da meaning of zis!” he barked, “Hans!  Frederic!  Explain yourselves!”

 

“These people attacked us while we were having coffee” said Hans.

 

“Why you little – let me at them!  Let me at them!” said Memphis.

 

“Easy Memphis” said Regal holding him back.

 

“Oh yeah, we attacked you” I said, “After you insulted us.”

 

The commandant stepped toward me and examined me.  I simply stared back at him, feigning the same interest in the examination of his clothes.  When he saw the Bluebird unit patch though his eyes widened briefly.

 

“Bluebirds.  Captain Valker?” he asked.

 

“Commandant von Dusseldorf?  Well it’s been a while hasn’t it?” I said.

 

“Ja, two years if I recall correctly.  Congratulations on your promotion.”

 

“And on yours.”

 

“Now, vie are you harassing my men?”

 

“Excuse me?  They were harassing us.” I explained, “We just dropped in for a cup of tea and to wait out the rain.  Your lads here decided to make a scene and provoked us into fighting.”

 

“If I may ask, vhat did they do exactly?”

 

I pulled Otto Bahn von Dusseldorf close and whispered in his ear.  Otto nodded and frowned as I retold everything they said.  Now, I may or may not have exaggerated things, but it was all for the greater good. 

 

“Men!  How dare you disgrace the uniform!” scolded Otto, “Return to the school, your shore leave has been revoked!  I hope this is satisfactory Captain.”

 

“I’d say that’s fair.  Thanks Otto.”

 

“Ahem.  I trust you will also discipline your men for striking mine.”

 

“Well, fair is fair” I said, “Lads, I’m afraid I’ll have to ground you for the next ten seconds.”

 

“What?” asked Regal.

 

“Count to ten, really fast.”

 

“One two three four five six seven eight nine ten.  Like that?” asked Regal.

 

“That’s good, welcome back to the skies” I said.

 

“Das is nicht vhat I vas hoping for, but zey are your men” said Otto with a tinge of condemnation, “Now, if you would Captain Valker, I vould like to discuss some things with you.”

 

“Regarding the match?”

 

“Yes.”

 

The lads and the delinquents of Jaeger went their separates ways.  Otto led me down the road to another small place where we could speak.  To my surprise, Miho and Maho were seated at the table as well.  It was a rather awkward situation since Maho is not known for her conversation.  It was rather dim.  A single thick candle in the center of the table was the only bright spot.  The table was covered in a purple, linen table cloth.  The far side of the room was shrouded in darkness, but I could faintly make out some thick curtains.

 

“Good afternoon” Otto said to the ladies, “I hope your first impression of Kiel has been a good one.”

 

“Thank you” said Miho, “It’s a very nice city.”

 

“Let us begin” said Maho.

 

“You’re very straight to business aren’t you?” I said.

 

“That’s my big sister for you” smiled Miho.

 

“Well I’m glad you got a chipper personality” I said, “But you both have good looks.”

 

“Flattery will get you nowhere” said Maho.

 

“With you it won’t,” I said half joking, “Anyway, what did you want to talk about Otto?”

 

“Well Captain, I wanted to ensure that Gentlemen’s Rules would be assured first and foremost” he said, “If so, then I am sure you are aware the number of aircraft must be equal.  Now, Jaeger is capable of committing up to the maximum allotted 30 aircraft for this match.  Has Bluebird Squadron gathered enough members to match?”

 

_Well this is embarrassing._

 

“Ahem.  No we can’t match that.”

 

“Ah, so we are to field at maximum 11, no?”

 

“We can do fourteen for this match” I said matter-of-factually.

 

“Miho” said Maho, “Would you like to do the same?”

 

“Sister” said Miho, “I don’t think mother would approve of this deviation from the Nishizumi style.”

 

“Perhaps not, but I respect the sentiment” said Maho, “An agreement of honor between commanders is… admirable.  So, Miho, would you like me to match the size of your force?”

 

_Say yes.  Please say yes._

 

“No, thank you” said Miho, “We will fight you with all our strength and so should you.”

 

 

“Ver goot” said Otto, “Now regarding the attacking of fleeing aircraft and –“

 

“Otto, you know me and I know you” I said, “I’m certain that we can trust each other that all of the Gentlemen’s Rules will be followed.”

 

“Herr Valker, I trust that you shall abide by the rules but I would still like to go over them to ensure there is no misunderstanding.  Now regarding the attacking of fleeing aircraft…”

 

“Oh for the love of –“

 

“Miho, how well do you know him?” asked Maho.

 

“Oh, umm… pretty well I guess” Miho replied, “Why do you ask, sister?”

 

“He is odd” said Maho.

 

Miho laughed nervously, “Well he is British.  But he’s a really nice person.  I like him.”

 

“You like him?” asked Maho, “I’ll have to watch him.”

 

“Yes, yes, yes.  A thousand times yes, Otto” I said, “Now what were you girls saying about me being odd?”

 

“Miho likes you” said Maho, “I am trying to decide if I like you.”

 

“Well I like Miho too” I replied, “and I’m trying to decide if I like you.”

 

“Vell, I like both of you” said Otto tapping the table, “Now please, let us stop our conversation now and enjoy the show, ja?”

 

“Show?”

 

Three spotlights focused on the curtains on the far end of the room.  Little bulbs glowed and revealed a stage.  The drums began to beat and the saxophone began to sing beside the piano.  The curtain was slowly brushed aside by a black long gloved hand.  A sultry woman dressed in a red dress strutted on to the stage and began to sing.  Miho smiled at me, her eyes glimmering in the candlelight.  I moved around the table and took a place beside her.  I stretched my arm and wrapped it around Miho’s shoulders unintentionally.  Miho was unsure and hesitant but after a few moments she moved a little closer.  All the while, Maho gave us inquisitive looks.

 

“Danke Captain Valker” said Otto, “I look forward to our match.  Auf wiedersehen.”

 

“Goodbye.  Maho, it was nice to meet you,” I said.

 

“And you.  Treat my sister well.”

 

“Okay…  Well, what should we do now, Miho?” I asked.

 

“Our match against Kuromorimine and Jaeger is at the end of the week” she said, “I should get back and come up with a better plan.  Sorry. How about after the match?  We can do something then, if you want.”

 

“No need to apologize.  I’d be doing the same but the weather has grounded us.  Oh, and sure, after the match sounds fine to me.  Well, have fun.  I’ll be at the airfield if you need me.”

 

The skies began to clear just a little bit as I wandered the streets of Kiel.  A few of the restaurant patios opened up to take advantage of a break in the rain.  An old bell tower tolled the hour as the trolley came down the street.  As the red street car passed I quickly grabbed on and hopped aboard to get a free ride to another part of the city.  The rail passed along the shore where sail boats of all sorts and sizes waited to go out to the open sea.  The trolley came to a halt just a few blocks from the university and near a large park.  An hour or so had passed and the grey clouds had been swept away.  The city shined under the beading water.

 

“Hey Johnny!” called a voice.

 

Saori and Hana walked down the street.

 

_If I didn’t know better I’d say they were following me.  Huh, that’s an enticing thought: being followed by pretty girls all the time.  Yeah, I could live with that._

 

“Hello, what are you doing here?”

 

“The weather has cleared up so we wanted to go out” said Saori.

 

“The botanical garden is just over there” said Hana, “There’s supposed to be over 280 types of flowers.  I’d love to see them.  Do you think they’ll let me pick some to arrange and show my mother?”

 

“Maybe” I said, “Well you two have fun.  See you.”

 

Saori grabbed my arm, “Come with us.”

 

“Yes, please” said Hana, “Our last time in the park with you was great.  You’re such great company.”

 

“Well, I don’t know…”

 

“Please.”

 

I sighed, “Okay, I can’t say ‘no’ to you girls.”

 

The park was nothing like I’d seen before.  The blades of grass glittered with droplets of rain and the flowers cried pure, clear tears.  Red, yellow, violet, and blue flowers were arranged in neat rows around the park.  Some arrangements blended the colours to resemble a famous image, like a logo, or a name, or a face.  Beside a trickling stream with a wooden bridge was a small white and brown house with a blue roof, a reminder of a simpler time.  Cobblestone paths led us around the park past green houses and gardens.  In the centre was a large gazebo which served as the entrance to a great stone building with angel statues and a tall bell tower.

 

“Miho’s a nice girl you know.  She might be a bit timid” said Saori softly, “but she’s got a kind soul, the kindest I’ve ever seen.  To Miporin, her friends are everything so I can only imagine what someone who was… more would be to her.”

 

_Where did that come from?_

 

“Yeah, that’s true” I said without much thought.

 

“A girl like her is like a bright flower” said Hana smelling a rose, “It deserves to bloom and be appreciated.”

 

A hummingbird hovered around the rose and poked it before quickly flying away to find another flower.

 

“Kind of like how that humming bird did, eh?” I said.

 

“The hummingbird admires the flower for only a short time.  When it has had its fill it leaves without thought to go the next, and then the next, and then the next” said Hana as her eyes followed a bee, “But the bee loves the flower eternally.  No matter how far it flies or how many petals call, it will always return to kiss the petals.”

 

“It’s like love is a flower” said Saori, “What did that singer say?  Love is the flower you’ve got to let grow.”

 

“That’s an interesting perspective, Hana” I said, “But, I don’t follow you Saori.”

 

“Hana has always been better with the metaphors” said Saori, “I hope you understand what we’re saying.”

 

“You pulled me out here for something” I came to understand, “It’s about me and Miho isn’t it?”

 

“Yes” said Hana, “We want to know what your intentions are.”

 

“Right” said Saori, “Love is one of the most amazing things that can happen to a girl.  But it’s easy to confuse love for… something else.  And if someone takes advantage of that confusion, the heart can shatter and give up on love all together.  Give up on a chance at happiness with someone else.”

 

“So, Johnny, is it love or something else?” asked Hana.

 

“I… I… I don’t know.”

 

“Let’s make it simple then” said Saori, “Do you love Miho?  Yes, or no?”

 

My mind was shrouded in a dense fog of every emotion, “I’m sorry, but I don’t know.”

 

“That’s not what we wanted to hear” said Hana.

 

Saori scowled, “Miho is our best friend and we want her to be happy.  We’ve seen you and her together, and you...  Don’t pull Miho along unless you mean it.  You’re a nice guy but –“

 

“I’m going to stop you there” I said, “I want to make this clear. I will never and I mean _never_ do anything to hurt Miho.”

 

“Good” said Saori, “Just know that we’re Miho’s friend first and we’ll do anything to protect her.  If you hurt her, if you break her heart…”

 

“We’ll stand by her no matter what” said Hana, “Even if that means pushing you as far away as we can.”

 

I simply nodded.

 

It was dusk when I decided to return to Excalibur.  The grey clouds had returned and began to spit on us below.  Beneath the gloomy grey blanket the orange sun dipped beneath the horizon.  I stood at the stern of the ship looking back at the glowing city, Saori and Hana’s words echoing in my mind.

 

_*Sigh* Why are things always so complicated?_

 

“Hey Sugar’s Blues!”

 

I turned to see Noriko and Shinobu coming toward me.

 

“Oh, hey.  How was the flight, Flygirl?”

 

“We need to talk” said Shinobu.

 

“About you and Akebi” said Noriko.

 

_Oh great, another one of these._

 

“Let me guess, Akebi’s a nice girls and you want to make sure I’m going to treat her right?” I said.

 

“Exactly” said Shinobu, “Akebi is a little naïve but she cares a lot.  Especially for you.  It seems you’ve made quite an impression on her.”

 

“Your study dates and that dinner together” listed Noriko, “and that little gift you bought her too.  You’re sending a lot of signals, Sugar’s Blues.  She’s falling for you.”

 

“I won’t do anything to hurt her.”

 

“Are you sure about that?  You’ve been spending time with Miho too, and not just as commanders” said Shinobu.

 

“What are you talking about?”

 

“Both of you spend some alone time after the strategy meetings” said Noriko, “And after the last one when you taught her how to shoot pool.  I saw you wrap around her, it wasn’t just teaching.”

 

“And the time at the park too” added Shinobu, “Hana and Saori were talking about it.”

 

“What are you trying to get at?”

 

“Akebi is worth a hell of a lot more than a Jimmy-two-timer” said Shinobu, “Sorry but it’s the truth.”

 

“We want to make sure you know what you’re doing.  The volleyball club is really close and we’ll do anything for each other.  Anything” said Noriko, “Do you understand?”

 

_Like you wouldn’t believe._

 

“Yes.”

 

“So what is between you and Miho?” asked Shinobu.

 

“It’s… nothing” I said, “Just friends.  Hey, where’s Taeko in all this?”

 

“She’s with Akebi.  We wanted to make sure that we could talk to you alone” said Noriko, “And don’t tell Akebi about this little talk, alright?”

 

“She wouldn’t believe me if I told her” I smirked.

 

“Yes she would” said Shinobu bluntly.

 

I stared out across the waves as the girls left.  A thousand thoughts ran through my mind along with flashes of Akebi and Miho.

 

I sighed, “What do I do now?”

 

“Earl Grey” echoed the voice in my mind, “Earl Grey.”

 

_Why am I thinking about that now?_

 

“Hey Sugar!”

 

“Oh, hey Akebi.”

 

“You alright?  You seem a little down.”

 

I gave a small smile, “It’s nothing, just worried about the coming match.  Jaeger’s a tough opponent and Kuro is no push over either.”

 

“But we’ve got fighting spirit” she said, “And we’ve got Miho.  And… you.”

 

“So, how did you like Kiel?”  I tried to change the subject.

 

“It’s a nice city.  But it would be nicer with someone else.” she said looking over the waves, “Do you want to explore the city with me?  Say tomorrow?”

 

“Uhh… I need to prepare the lads for the match this week” I said.

 

I was losing myself in the chaos of thoughts.  Soari and Hana, and the Volleyball Club, all their voices were ringing in my mind.

 

“How about after the match then” asked Akebi.

 

“Yeah” I said, “That would work.”

 

The mechanical team was having their dinner out on the airfield beneath the wings of the Lancaster.  The Bomber Babes were close by dragging large buckets of laminate and brushes.  The two groups were taking a well-deserved break.  I gave them a wave and walked in on Piccadilly and Lucky inspecting the planes.  Miho was sitting on the wing of Lucky Lady listening to the boys talk.

 

“You think we can do it?” asked Piccadilly.

 

“With what we got?  Yeah, it’s possible” said Lucky, “What do you think, Miho?  Do we stand a chance?”

 

“I don’t know.  Planes are beyond me, but you’re good pilots.  So yes, you’ve got a chance” she said, “How about these though?”

 

Miho went to pull a large tarp of a covered plane.

 

“They’ve been mothballed” I said stopping her, “They need some major repairs that we haven’t got around to doing.  What can I help you with, Miho?”

 

“Here” Miho handed me a notebook, “This is our comprehensive strategy for the match.  Maps with tank routes, our fighting strength and Kuromorimine’s usual roster.  I hope it helps.”

 

“Everything helps” I replied, “Wow, this is really detailed.  Lucky, Lilly, we’re having a strategy meeting right now.”

 

All four of us jumped on top of the wing, spread Miho’s map and passed around the notes.

 

“Hey, take a look at this thing” said Piccadilly, “Panzer VIII Maus.  Looks like someone put a tank on top of a tank.  Think a pair of 250lbs-ers can take it out?”

 

Lucky took the page, “I’d use 500lbs-ers to be sure.  Miho, do you think your tanks can knock it out?”

 

“We can, but we need to get really lucky” she said, “The last time it took out three of us and we only took it out because we all worked together and got lucky.”

 

“Well let’s hope the bombers knock it out then.”

 

“But how about you guys?  Anything you need to worry about?”

 

“The Spitfires will be able to hold our own” said Piccadilly, “Lucky, what are your chances?”

 

“Not great if they bring out Focke Wulfs” admitted Lucky, “The Typhoons are fast but not that fast.  We’re still in better shape than the Hurricanes though.”

 

“We need a big win” I said, “Beating Jaeger will be sure to bring in tons of new guys.  So let’s show them our best.”

 

“What are you talking about, Captain?”

 

“Take them out of mothballs” I ordered.

 

“But they’re still being restored” said Piccadilly.

 

“Actually, they’re ready to go whenever you need.”

 

Harry, the mechanical club foreman walked into the hangar with a tip of the cap and a happy whistle.  Harry is a short man, almost the size of a dwarf, with big thick eyeglasses and a flat nose.  He was covered in oil and grease and laminates, sweat dripped all over him.  He tied the sleeves of his blue coveralls around his waist and rolled up the sleeves of the grey shirt.

 

“We restored them earlier this year.  Griffin Wing is ready to fly again” he said, “Didn’t you get my note?  Anyway, I’d just like to know if you want any extra work done on S24-777.  Like getting rid of–“

 

“Not those” I said, “Lucky you’re taking up the Tempests.  With those you can match and probably outrun anything in the air.”

 

Piccadilly stood up, “If we’re taking out the Tempests then the Griffins should –“

 

“The Griffins stay grounded” I said definitively.

 

“But if umm… Griffin Wing will help you, why not bring them?” asked Miho.

 

“History” said Lucky, “The Captain –“

 

“It’s not something we talk about” said Piccadilly, “Besides there’s only two.”

 

“It’s getting late” I said cutting the conversation, “We should turn in.  Lucky, Lilly tomorrow get your wings ready for hard practice.  We need a big win.”


	13. Ou Taiga's Ooarai Free Press II

“Hello Ooarai Girls Academy!  I’m Ou Taiga and I’m here again with Bluebird Squadron!” she shouted with great enthusiasm.

 

Sugar’s Blues spat out his tea in a spray, “How did you get in here again? The door was locked!”

 

“She’s a determined lass,” said Relay taking a bite of his lunch, “What can we help you with my dear?”

 

“The girls of Ooarai have been following this tournament very closely,” she began, “Ooarai is intimately familiar with Tankery, but have little knowledge of AirCom.  Last time I was here we went over the different types of matches.  Now, I was wondering if we could go over the actual rules and regulations of your sport.”

 

“Sure, let me break out the old rule book,” said Sugar’s Blues.

 

He opened a drawer and reached in.  From the large desk emerge a fairy large tome.  Johnny blew on the cover and created a large cloud of brown dust.

 

“Thank you for the dusting of dust” said Relay swatting away the cloud, “Where would you like to begin?”

 

“Just the basic rules please.”

 

** Rules and Regulations of AirCom **

****

**Permitted Aircraft**

 

The sport of AirCom is essentially a competition between forces of aircraft.  While it is encouraged for teams to acquire and utilize a variety of aircraft, to ensure a level of consistency squadrons must adhere to the following rules:

 

1.0   All aircraft must have been in service or entered into mass production phase between the years of 1939 to 1945.   
1.1   Aircraft must utilize propellers, as such jet and rocket aircraft are not permitted.   
1.2   Prototype aircraft are not permitted.   
1.3   All aircraft must adhere to the safety regulations as stated later in this volume.

  
2.0   Aircraft must not be modified or altered in such a way as to make it so as it can no longer be considered that class of aircraft   
2.1   Modifications are permitted so long as they adhere to the following:   
2.1.1          All parts and additions must be those available to the crews and factories that serviced the aircraft from the years 1939 – 1945.   
2.1.2          Modifications may not enhance aircraft performance beyond established data as researched by the AirCom Authority   
2.1.3          Only bombers may have additions of weapons and gun ports so long as the class of weapon has been seen on the aircraft, i.e. a bomber that had only .30 calibre machine guns may not mount .50 calibre machine guns   
2.1.4          Modifications to allow aircraft to use modern fuels are permitted so long as they do not enhance performance as stated in regulation 2.1.   
2.1.5          All modifications must be submitted to and approved by the AirCom Authority

 

**Force Organization**

 

All squadrons must be led by a Squadron Leader and at least one Wing Commander.  In addition, squadrons must adhere to the following organization rules when creating wings:

 

1.0   Fighter wings must be composed of at minimum one pair of identical aircraft, and no more than 6 aircraft in total.  
1.1   Fighter wings may be mixed units, but fighters must be identical pairs.  i.e. a wing can be composed of 2 Type-A fighters and 2 Type-B fighters, but may not be composed of 3 Type-A and 1 Type-B

2.0   Bomber wings may be composed or any number of aircraft

3.0   At the discretion of the Squadron Leader with approval of the match judges, bombers may be attached to Fighter Wings.  
3.1   At most, one bomber may be attached to each fighter wing.  
3.2   Bomber Wing Commanders are considered to be regular pilots for scoring purposes.

**Armament and Safety**

 

1.0   All pilots and participants must be trained in the use of parachutes.

2.0   All planes are to be protected through the use of bullet resistant glass, coated in the Defensive AirCom “Plot Armour” Laminate.  
2.1   All aircraft must have an enclosed cockpit.  Planes without an enclosed cockpit may be modified to allow so.  
2.2   All bombers must enclose gunner ports with protective glass or similar precautions.

3.0   Weapon calibers in excess of 37mm are prohibited.

4.0   Use of rockets is prohibited when targeting aircraft or manned ground vehicles.

5.0   Authorized ammunition is limited to Practice “Dummy” Rounds approved by the AirCom Authority.  
5.1   Use of other ammunition is prohibited.

6.0   Bombs utilized are limited to the Mark III ‘Party Popper’ AirCom Explosive.  
6.1   Utilization of Marks I & II are also permitted.  
6.1.1          Production of Mark I & II bombs are discontinued

7.0   Targeting of observer aircraft is prohibited.  Violations are subject but not limited to suspension from AirCom events, expulsion from School Ship programs, and fines.

 

“Well that encompasses the basic rules,” said Relay, “Is there anything else?”

 

Ou Taiga nodded, “I have heard that in addition to the official rules, squadrons tend to abide by another set as well.  I believe you call them Gentlemen’s Rules.  Care to tell us more about that?”

 

“From the top I guess,” said Johnny, “The Gentlmen’s Rules have been a part of AirCom since the start.  They’re grandfather, I guess you could call it, stems all the way back to the First World War.”

 

“You see the First World War was essentially the birth of air combat as we know it, as I’m sure you have studied,” explained Relay, “And during this time there were unspoken rules of chivalry between pilots of both sides.  Knights of the Air they were called and they had a code.  Simple things like not shooting down persons attempting to land crippled planes, letting people go when their out of ammo or fuel.  Things that preserved the honor of their profession.”

 

“So naturally, AirCom pilots kept the tradition alive” said Johnny.

 

“I heard though that not all squadrons abide by these rules” said Ou Taiga.

 

Johnny nodded, “That’s true.  Just like in the real world not everyone keeps to a code of honor.”

 

“What happens when they don’t abide?  Do you stoop to their level?”

 

“Depends on who we’re fighting” laughed Johnny.

 

“Generally, no,” Relay said sternly, “But sometimes circumstances call for it.  Our match with Ortona for example warranted a break from Gentleman’s Rules.”

 

“So what are the Gentleman’s Rules?”

 

** Gentleman’s Rules **

****

  1.        Thou shalt not undertake any action that shall disgrace the Knights of the Air.
  2.        Thou shalt not shoot any individual that has released the white smoke in surrender.
  3.        Thou shalt not unfairly target officers and commanders.
  4.        Should one possess as superior numerical force, thou shalt match their numbers to the smaller force.
  5.        Thou shalt not fire upon individuals fleeing from combat due to mechanical problems, or the exhaustion of fuel or ammo.
  6.        Thou shalt not assault landed enemy aircraft.
  7.        Thou shalt honor and respect the traditions and customs of rival squadrons.
  8.        Thou shalt not engage in espionage against thy rivals.
  9.        Thou shalt not obscure one’s rank from the enemy.  Squadron and Wing Leaders shall wear their laurels proudly.
  10.    Thou shalt not use the Gentleman’s Rules to skew the match to his advantage.



 

 

“That should just about cover it,” said Johnny, “Did you want to add anything, Relay?”

 

“Nope, I think we got it all,” he said, “Would you like to know anything else, Ms. Taiga?”

 

“That will be all, thank you very much, gentlemen.”

 

“Alright then, back to the paperwork,” Johnny groaned.

 

“Oh look at the time” said Relay looking at an imaginary watch, “I must get back to the control tower.”

 

“Jackass” said Johnny under his breath with a smile.


	14. Chapter 14

The grey clouds refused to leave Kiel.  A heavy rain drenched the airfield and rattled off the tanks.  A conference was being held behind closed doors.  Bluebirds and Ooarai stood inside staring out the window waiting for word on the match.

 

“Attention!  Attention!” said a speaker, “Today’s match will proceed as planned.  Both teams report to the mustering area.”

 

“You’ve got to be kidding me” said Piccadilly, “We can’t fly in this weather.”

 

“Hope it clears up then” said Lucky, “Looks like you girls have a harder fight against you.”

 

“Yeah” said Miho, “We need to come up with another plan.  Please excuse us.”

 

“Relay” I called, “Get meteorology on the horn.  I want to know everything about this storm.  When it clears, when it calms, when it gets worse, when it sneezes, everything.”

 

“Already done, Captain” said Relay with his ear pressed against the headphone, “You should get to the mustering grounds.  You know Otto doesn’t like it when things are late.”

 

Within the hour all four teams had gathered in neat straight rows on the damp grass.  There was not an umbrella insight.  The rain beaded off our leather jackets and soaked the girls’ coats.  Thank God that they weren’t wearing white.  Before the judges could summon the commanders forward Jaeger Squadron began to stomp their feet to a beat.

 

“Me-109 Lied!” ordered Otto.

 

In a unified voice the Germans sang:

 

“In den Luften fliegt dahin, Hoch im Sonnenschein, Eube kleine Jagerin, Me-109…”

 

_Well this is what happens when a choir boy is squadron leader.  I will say they’re pretty good through.  Horrido!  Horrido!  La, la, la… God damn it now they’ve got me doing it!_                                                                      

 

In perfect time and on the beat Jaeger Squadron changed their tune and the girls of Kuromorimine began to sing:

 

“Ob’s sturm oder schniet, ob die Sonne uns lacht, Der Tag gluhen heis, oder eiskalt die Nact, Verstaubt sind die Gesicter, doch froh ist unser Sinn, Ja, unser Sinn, Es braust unser Panzer im Sturmwind dahin…”

 

_Oh the Panzerlied. Fits Kuromorimine like a glove.  Don’t think girls’ voices fit it best though.  I wonder if Otto and his lads will join in to level out the tune.  Speak of the devil._

 

In the final two lines both of our opponents joined their voices and in a resounding bellow to finally end their ritual.

 

“Team commanders please come forward.”

 

“That was very nice” I said to Otto, “Though I’d have preferred if you sang ‘White Cliffs of Dover’.”

 

“Vell then perhaps you’d like to give us a performance then” said Otto, “I have a proposition for you Herr Hauptmann.”

 

“I’m listening.”

 

“The losing team must sing the anthem of the other” Otto extended his hand, “Is this wager acceptable?”

 

“Get your voice ready” I shook his hand, “I look forward to your rendition of ‘White Cliffs’.”

 

“Miho, would you like to make a similar wager?” asked Maho, “I understand that at Ooarai the losing team must do the dance you performed during the Pravda match last year.”

 

“No, no, no” said Miho frantically, “We don’t need to do anything like that.”

 

“Excuse me” said the judge, “We must begin the match.  Now, you know the rules and I want an exciting match.  Good luck.  Both teams, salute!”

 

“Good luck!”

 

The pilots clambered on top of the tanks jumping off when the rumbling machines rolled through our airfield.  The lads took to their stations and rolled the planes out of the hangar.  The rain still hadn’t let up but the squadron had to be prepared.  I ran up into the control tower and huddled around the radio anxiously waiting for the battle to begin.

 

“Any word from meteorology?” I asked Relay.

 

“They’re saying that there should be some fair weather later today” Relay flipped the note, “In about an hour or so.”

 

“We go up in an hour then” said Piccadilly.

 

“If the girls can hold out that long” said Dipsy, “They’re outnumbered over three to one and outgunned.”

 

“Match begin!”

 

Miho’s voice cracked through the radio, “Panzer vor!”

 

“Easy!  Easy!” said Smilin’ Susie, “Relay, you got a place to plug this in here?”

 

Susie and Checkmate hauled a medium sized television from the lounge up the stairs and into the tower.  Both of them had wires and other things wrapped around their shoulders.  Relay pointed them to a corner and they plopped it down with a heavy thud.

 

“All tanks proceed to point K-9.  We’ll push through the peninsula but be ready to escape through the island.”

 

“Susie, Cathie, what are you doing?” asked Lucky.

 

“Well we could sit here and listen to the radio but it would be better if we could actually watch them” said Susie, “Pass me that cable.”

 

Susie popped the cables into place and pounded the television’s top.  Static was all we got.

 

“Oh come on” groaned Susie.

 

“Miho, what is your current location and speed” asked Relay.

 

“We are passing through point B-1 at about 30kph.”

 

“B-1 to K-9” Relay pulled out a map and ruler, “That means they’ll be going this way.  Ten kilometer distance, so that means it’ll take them half an hour.  So far so good.  If they don’t encounter Kuro we should be able to get off the ground in time.”

 

“Once we cross into the peninsula, Duck Team scout the bridge to the objective zone please.  Rabbit please check the bridge to the island.”

 

_Hold out girls, hold out._

 

Time dragged on slowly as we waited for the storm.  The television refused to show an image making the radio our only link to the battle.  The rain worsened and was joined by howling winds.  A great bolt of lightning drove into the earth and called on a booming thunder clap. 

 

“Are you sure they said clear skies in an hour or so?” I asked Relay.

 

“It’s weather” he replied, “It can change on a dime.  We can only hope they got it right.”

 

A cannon shot resounded through the radio.

 

“Miho, Kuromorimine’s set up along the bridge to their objective zone.  There’s a lot of them” said Taeko.

 

“Same here” said Yuuki, “I don’t think we can get through.  Sorry commander.”

 

“It’s fine, all tanks retreat back to our zone and –“

 

Another cannon blast.

 

“They’re behind us!” shouted Sodoko, “How did they get there so fast?”

 

_They’re surrounded.  This isn’t good._

 

“It’s a group of Panzer III’s” said Erwin, “We can punch through with our heavy armour and –“

 

“No, fall back to point N-6 and draw them in” ordered Miho, “Take cover in the village.  We’ll do what we did against Pravda when they come.”

 

“But shouldn’t we break through, it’s only Panzer IIIs.”

 

“Maho would have supported the move with Panthers and have firing zones on the bridges” said Miho, “Anteater how is your run?”

 

“We’re on the island and haven’t been found yet” said Nekota.

 

“Right, stay hidden and keep going, we’re counting on you.”

 

“If the bridges don’t get cleared they’ll get beaten down eventually” said Piccadilly.

 

“The storm has gotten a lot worse” I said, “We can’t go up.”

 

“The fighters can’t” said Melody, “But the Lancaster can weather the storm.  Dipsy, think you can pilot through this?”

 

“Yeah, no problem.  Betty, think you can drop the bombs on target this time?”

 

“Just stay level at 500m or lower and I’ll get them.”

 

“The storm is too strong” I said, “If you lose control you’ll crash and the lightning is another story.”

 

“We can do it, Captain.”

 

“We know the risks and we’re willing to face them.”

 

A thousand explosions rang through the radio along with shouts and screams of the Ooarai girls.

 

“They need us.  If we don’t go up soon, they’re all going to get knocked out.  It’s the only way we can win.”

 

_And I need the win._

 

“Go” I said, “Get up in the air and help them out.  Melody, stay behind.  Relay let the girls know help is on the way.”

 

“Right.  Miho, we’re sending the Lancaster to clear the bridges for you.  Hold on” Relay grabbed the map, “We will strike the island bridge, then the north, then the south.  Hold on just a little longer.”

 

The Lancaster’s engines roared to life spraying water everywhere.  Lightning and thunder shouted at the pilots to stay on the earth.  The great bomber rolled across the airstrip and defied God by ascending into the heavens.  Compass Rose’s voice calmly gave directions as they navigated the soup.  The rest of us anxiously waited with bated breath on the mission.

 

“We are approaching the target zone” said Rose, “Preparing bomb load.”

 

“Relay can you tell them to hit area L-6” asked Miho.

 

“Relay to bomber, we have a request for strike on L-6 can you do it?”

 

“Adjusting course” said Dipsy, “We can only spare on 1000lb bomb though.  I hope it’s enough.”

 

“We’ll have to find out.”

 

“Payload away.”

 

Several moments of silence was followed by cheers through the radio.

 

“Hooray!  You got the Maus and it looks like three others” said Saori, “Thank you boys, we can push through now.”

 

“Roger that, proceeding to the island bridge.”

 

“Duck Team push through that hole and head to the island bridge.  I need you to tell us if the bombs hit the target.”

 

“Understood, moving out.  Cover us please.”

 

The next twenty minutes passed in almost complete silence.  Only the words “Bombs away” would crack through here and there.  Lightning continued to flash and the thunder drowned our thoughts.

 

“All bombs away we are returning to base.”

 

“Confirming strikes, all three targets hit.  Bridges are clear, where do we go Commander Nishizumi?

 

Rose reported their flight plan, “Proceeding along flight path Able, ETA fifteen minutes and –“

 

The radio cut out with the flash of lightning and a boom of thunder.

 

“Jesus Christ!” shouted Rose.

 

I snatched the mic from Relay, “What happened?  Are you alright?”

 

“We got hit by a lightning bolt!”

 

“There’s fire in engine number 4!  Cut the fuel line!” hollered  Dipsy, “Use the tool kit!  Move it!  Move it!”

 

“I got it!” shouted Betty, “Holy, Dipsy the wing’s beaten nine ways to shit!”

 

“The left aileron is locked!”  Dipsy yelled, “Engine 3 is losing power.  Come on, come on.  It’s okay I can keep her up.”

 

“Bail out” I said, “Bail out!”

 

“We’re too low” said Dipsy, “I’ve got no choice I’ve got to bring her in.”

 

“Okay, okay.  Listen up” I grabbed the map, “Adjust course and use flight path Charlie it’ll take you over the water ways.  Worst case scenario you can ditch in the water.”

 

“Roger that we’ll be back be-“

 

“Lancaster?  Lancaster do you read?  Lancaster?  Dipsy?  Rose?  Betty?  Anyone read?  Shit!”

 

Everyone’s hearts sank at that moment.  There was not a word only the sound of the rain against the windows and the static of the radio.  The minutes passed and the weather started to clear.

 

“One of our planes was missing two hours overdue.  One of our planes was missing with all her gallant crew…”

 

“What the hell is that?” asked Regal.

 

“It’s coming through the radio” said Relay, “The weather must’ve cleared enough to grab a signal.”

 

“Coming in on a wing and a prayer” sang three voices, “Coming in on a wing and a prayer.  Though there’s one motor gone we can still carry on.  Coming in on a wing and a prayer…”

 

The control tower erupted in cheers and hoots.  In the distance through the Lancaster limped home with a stalled engine and a second petering out.  Smoke followed the engine and with violent hops the great bomber ground to a halt.  The beleaguered bomber crew stepped out of the plane pumping their fists in the air signalling victory.  The entire squadron ran out of the control tower and congratulated the crew.

 

“Welcome home lads” I said.

 

“Thanks, but enough talk you need to get up in the air.”

 

Relay hobbled out of the control tower with a map in hand.

 

“Captain, we’ve got word from the tanks” said Relay, “They’ve pushed into the island are working their way to the zone, but Kuro has a heavy force on the two northern bridges.”

 

“Alright listen up” I said, “Here’s the plan.”

 

The skies were spotted with grey clouds and the winds were stronger than we had hoped.  Four Spitfires led the way with four Tempests laden with bombs following close behind.  The Wellington had broken off long before under the command of Melody to provide immediate support to the tankers.

 

“There they are lads” I said, “Dead ahead.  Push it to War Emergency Power and let’s do this!  Break!  Break!  Break!”

 

The fighter groups broke their tight formations and charged at each other like knights of old.  The bullets flew across the skies and as the groups passed.  Four Me-109s equipped with three cannons and four Fw-190s, a little over half of their squadron strength.  I pulled hard on the stick and swerved onto the tail of a 109.  Piccadilly Lilly formed on my wing.  Together we released alternating bursts of fire.  The rounds sparked and burst and a trail of smoke followed.

 

Our victory was short lived as a rain of death came down upon us.  Two Fw-190s, the most fearsome fighter we could come across, fell upon us like a pair of wolves.  Their four cannons flashed with white fire falling behind us.  The two of us quickly broke apart and began to weave into one another.  As the wolves attacked we dragged them into the other’s line of fire and scared them off with harmless bursts of machine guns.

 

As we fought the battle raged around us.  Regal and Memphis were fending off the 109s while the Tempests chased the other Focke Wulfs.  The acrobatic fight was amazing.  Planes looped and rolled and bobbed and weaved all across the sky.

 

“Woohoo!” cheered Lucky, “I got one!”

 

“Same here!” said Memphis.

 

“Lilly, on the next pass roll under me then climb.  Get the guy on my tail” I instructed, “I’ll roll over and get the guy on yours.”

 

“Roger.”

 

“Now!”

 

Lilly rolled under me and quickly recovered to climb into the sky while I tumbled over him and dove.  The Fw-190s couldn’t match the tight maneuver and over shot their marks.  Mine climbed as fast as it could and streaked past Lilly.  At point blank range he opened fire tearing apart its wings.  Lilly’s attacker dove past and tied to pull up. The turn was fatal for the 190.  I peered through the reflective sight and it was like my target was standing still.  I gently pulled on the stick and pulled up to match his ascent.  A little bit further and the guns led the target.  A press of the button and the bullets sprayed toward the target like a swarm of angry bees.  The conversion was perfect with every one impacting against the fuselage where the tail meets the body.  I triumphantly smirked when the black smoke spewed from the plane.

 

“Bandits!  Up high!” shouted Paulie.

 

Dropping from the sun were six dark angels: Four Me-109Ks with 30mm cannons and a pair of Fw-190s.  The group streaked through the melee firing as they went.  The squadron broke from their targets to narrowly dodge the hail.  The 109s turned to try and get on our tails.  The battle was too chaotic to reform into pairs.  The 190s sped away and ascended only to fall upon us like eagles.

 

“Everyone form a wheel!  Follow me!” I ordered.

 

“Ummm… Squadron Leader... W-w-w-wellington reporting,” stammered a soft voice, “W-w-we’ve f-f-found the enemy, b-b-but we’re… we’re… we’re…”

 

“Spit it out!” shouted Piccadilly.

 

“We’re taking anti-aircraft fire!”

 

“WHAT!?”

 

“Give me that!  Rookie, take the wheel,” Melody’s voice came out of the background, “Cap, we’re taking AAA fire from the island.  We can’t get close until they’re knocked out.”

 

“Roger,” I said, “Everyone break off and head for the tanks!  Lead those fighters on a merry chase!”

 

“Roger!” they declared. 

 

Every single fighter shook of their pursuer and broke off their target.  We flew defensively and dove to roughly 1000 meters and less.  The bridges were getting larger and larger.  On the banks of the river flashes from barrels sparked every second.  The ground was being blown to bits, if they weren’t careful the entire topography would change by day’s end.  The massive shells bounced off armour every which way.  The Hetzer and Stug were safely hidden behind a small crest, the enemy rounds harmlessly flying overhead.  The speedier tanks, such as the Type 89, were driving circles around the enemy harmlessly annoying them with spitballs.  The Tiger growled against its bigger sisters exchanging blow after blow.  Miho was brilliant, her crew really pulled it together landing shot after shot into the sides of Maho’s forces.  Many glanced off but a couple Panthers were knocked out. 

 

Suddenly from the plains thousands upon thousands of angry tracers surged from the ground like a spray of needles.

 

“Woah!” I exclaimed pulling up with the others following suit, “Anyone get a look at what was shooting?”

 

“Uh, uh, Wirbelwinds” said Lucky, “but open top tanks aren’t allowed!”

 

“Must’ve modified it,” said Memphis, “But that’s the least of our worries.  Look!”

 

Jaeger squadron was falling on top of us.  We were running out of speed.

 

“Dive!  Dive!  Dive!” I ordered.

 

“What? The AAA will tear us to bits” protested Regal.

 

“It’ll tear up Jaeger just as easily.  Pull them in and pray Kuro’s shooting gets sloppy.”

 

The squadron pulled out of the climb early and surfed over the trees.  The wirbelwinds cannons turned rapidly spraying death as it went.  Screams over the radio called defeat.   Our risky move cost us Memphis and Regal.  Lucky’s and Susie’s laughs said victory claiming a few of our pursuers got hit and were forced to withdraw.  A loud thunder and a bright flash.

 

“Wirbelwinds are no more!” declared Cathie, “Wellington, make your attack run!”

 

Jaeger Squadron was pulling away scared off by friendly fire.  The Bluebirds had just started to climb.

 

“Hurricanes, now!  Everyone else, break!  Break!  Break!”

 

“Tally ho!” hollered Nancy, “Rookies follow in 10 seconds.”

 

The Hurricanes emerged from the clouds above and fell on the turning 109s.  The small machine guns rattled and the rounds bounced off the wings of the 109s.  The Fw-190s sped into the battle.  Nancy and Betty turned their Hurricanes into the wolves.  The two pairs exchanged fire as the distance closed with neither willing to give ground.  Black smoke streamed from Betty’s fighter as he dove away.  Nancy was luckier, knocking out his attacker but taking heavy damage.

 

“Damn” he said, “Sorry, but I need to get out of here.”

 

White smoke trailed as he sped away.  None of the other fighters gave chase.  The second pair of Hurricanes came down to take advantage of the chaos.

 

“Rookie!  You’re coming in too fast!”

 

The Hurricane rushed through the air into the melee.  The angle was too steep and the engine was at full power.  The elevators struggled to level the plane while the ailerons tried to force it to roll away.  The rudder froze.  The 109 it was attacking tried to pull up and away.  Twisted metal and shrapnel sprayed in every which way as the two planes collided.  In an instant both groups broke off their attacks and climbed away from the collision zone.

 

“Mayday!  Mayday!  Mayday!”

 

_Mayday!  Mayday!  Mayday!  The rushing wind, the spinning sky.  Four fighters tumbling through the sky.  The beating heart racing and pounding with the shallow heavy breath.  Mayday!  Mayday!  Mayday!_

“Anyone see them?”

 

“There!  Two chutes!  I see two chutes!  Thank God.”

 

“Duck Team, speed away and find those pilots!  They need help!” said Miho, “Saori use this frequency, I need to speak to my sister.”

_Pull the cord and count to three.  Feel the snap and the grab the risers.  Count to three, inhale.  Count to three, exhale._

“Captain Walker, do you read?”

 

_Metal rain passed in flakes and fists.  A chute above, one to the side, and one below.  The flat clearing surrounded by the forest covered in ice and snow.  Count to three, inhale.  Count to three, exhale.  Mayday!  Mayday!  Mayday!_

“Hauptmann Walker!  Hauptmann Walker, do you read?  Hauptmann Valker!  Respond Hauptman Walker!”

 

“Yes” I snapped out of it, “Yes, I read you.  Is your man okay?”

 

“Ja, there are two parachutes” said Otto, “Are you alright?”

 

“Yeah, I’m good” I said taking a breath.

 

“Then let us proceed like gentlemen” said Otto, “Three passes then combat begins.”

 

“Attention, attention!” said a voice over the radio, “Match time limit reached.  Ooarai Girls Academy and Bluebirds Squadron win by flag tank knock out.”

 

“Ah, vell das ist das” said Otto, “I shall see you on the ground Hauptmann Valker.”

 

The fighters skidded to a halt on the airfield.  Before my propeller stopped spinning, I leaped from the cockpit and rushed toward the nearest vehicle.  Memphis rolled up in a Universal Carrier and hollered for me to get in.  As I clambered up the metal Ooarai’s tanks began to roll in with an extra passenger.

 

“Rookie!” I called, “You alright?”

 

“My name’s Samuel, sir” The lad jumped off the Chi Nu, “I’m fine, Captain.  I landed on the island in a nice flat area.”

 

“Alright, but have the nurses check you out to be sure. Let’s go Memphis, a Jerry is still out there let’s make sure he’s okay too.”

 

“Oh, we picked him up too” said Nekota, “We passed by Kuromorimine on the way back and he hopped on one of their tanks.  I hope that’s okay.”

 

“Was he hurt?”

 

“No, he’s okay too.  We landed close to each other” said Samuel, “First thing he did after he landed was run toward me to make sure I was fine.  Nice guy.”

 

“Sugar’s Blues kind of froze up, up there” muttered Naughty Nancy, “and he looks a little shaken now.  Is he alright?”

 

“He looks fine to me” said Checkmate, “Paulie what do you think?”

 

“Seems fine.  We need to get to the mustering grounds.  Otto will sing soon.”

 

“Both teams, salute!”

 

“Good game!” said the teams.

 

“Vell Hauptmann Valker, now is the time for me to fulfil the wager” said Otto.

 

“Uhh… Captain Otto, considering what happened up there I don’t think it’s really necessary” I said.

 

“Nein.  I gave my word.”

 

_I think he just wants to sing._

 

“Then how about this song instead?” I asked.

 

I started to hum the chorus before starting on the verse.  Before I could even utter the first line Otto immediately jumped in and sang.  On cue everyone, both Jaeger and Bluebird, Ooarai and Kuromorimine joined in on the chorus:

 

It's a long way to Tipperary,

It's a long way to go.

It's a long way to Tipperary

To the sweetest girl I know…

 

“Danke, Captain Valker.”

 

The lads were very cheerful back at the lounge.  Two victories in a row.  And this was the most decisive.  Two shot down, one crippled, one retreated but we knocked out five.  Piccadilly grabbed the nearest piece of chalk and updated the scoreboard.  The girls were also hanging about the lounge having a merry time.

 

“Captain Walker, I’m the press representative.  What would you say was the key to your victory?”

 

“Team work, mate.  Everyone pulled together and did their jobs.  And the tankers too.  The girls from Ooarai did a fantastic job.”

 

“Miho, how did you feel when the Lancaster braved the storm?”

 

“I was a little scared, honestly.  The storm was really strong and I heard their engine caught fire.  I’m just glad everyone came home safe and sound.”

 

The reporter continued his rounds asking everyone every possible question.

 

“Mr. Walker.”

 

Two devils in smart suits walked into the door.

 

“Congratulations on your win” said Billy, “I hope this brings in several new members.”

 

“Indeed” said Willy, “We wouldn’t want this merriment to disappear.”

 

“What’s going on, Sugar’s?” asked Lucky.

 

“Nothing” I said, “Nothing you need to worry about.”

 

“Just let me know when you’re ready to go” Akebi tapped me on the shoulder, “The city is beautiful at night and I want to see all of it.”

 

“But I thought Johnny was going out with Miho tonight” said Saori.

 

“Oh, it’s fine” said Miho, “Have fun you two.”

 

“No, it’s not fine” said Saori, “What’s going on, Johnny?  Are you going with Miho or Akebi?”

 

“You can both join me” I said nervously trying to calm the situation.

 

“You pig” said Saori.

 

“No, that’s not going to work” scolded Noriko, “Akebi, let’s get out of here.”

 

“He’s a two-timer after all” said Shinobu.

 

“Well this is an interesting development but we really need to discuss your recruitment efforts, Mr. Walker” said Billy, “You only have a month and a half left until the deadline.”

 

“What deadline?  What are you talking about?” asked Piccadilly.

 

“The recruitment deadline.  Didn’t he tell you?” said Willy, “AirCom needs to get forty members by the end of the tournament otherwise we’re cutting the club.”

 

“Woah, woah” said Susie, “You’re cutting the club?  You can’t do that!”

 

“Forty members?” said Memphis, “We haven’t seen those numbers in AirCom for the past five years!”

 

“Then say your farewells.  You’re expenses are too high at the moment” said Billy, “We have given you a chance.  Mr. Walker assured us that you can meet the quota by the deadline.”

 

“Johnny, I hear you froze up after the collision” said the reporter, “What caused you to be so shaken?”

 

“Johnny do you remember what we told you in the park?” asked Hana.

 

“What about us on the boat?” said Noriko, “Wait, you went on a date with Hana and Saori too?

 

“No I didn’t” I said, “And we can hit the quota.  This win will be in the paper and will draw everyone to the club.  I promise.”

 

“Why the hell didn’t you tell us our club was in danger?” said Lucky.

 

“I didn’t want to worry you guys.”

 

“Didn’t want us to worry?  Jesus, the tourney’s almost over and we’re only halfway there!  We’ve got reason to worry now!” said Susie.

 

“Johnny” said Akebi, “Are you… did you…”

 

“Akebi, I –“

 

“Miho, don’t go!” said Saori.

 

“Hey Ben, I’ve got a breaking story” said the reporter over his cell.

 

“Johnny!”

 

“Johnny!”

 

“Johnny!”

 

“Mr. Walker!”

 

_Mayday!  Mayday!  Mayday!_


	15. Chapter 15

Two days, two hours, fifty five minutes.  We had arrived off the coast of Britain with ferries headed to London and Dover.  I hadn’t spoken to a single person since that day.  Every day at class I would just bury my face in the text and zone out the world.  When the lads went to practice I just dragged myself home.  If I did go to the field it was always at night when no one would be there.  I would stand in the hangar and look at the planes ever aware that soon they would be lost beneath the tarps forever.  Akebi and Miho avoided me.  If we passed on the streets of London they immediately turned away down another road.  Hana and Soari, the volleyball club, they were always close by to ward me away.

 

“That’s the lecture for today” said teacher, “The final exam is in two weeks and covers both Romeo and Juliet, and A Midsummer Night’s Dream.”

 

At the end of class I made my way down to the press room.  

 

“Here’s the article” said Ben, “I know you won’t like it so get it over with.”

 

_Scandal in the Skies._

 

“Come on don’t publish this, please.”

 

Ben shook his head, “Sorry, but the press has a responsibility to tell the facts and the news.”

 

“This will ruin the squadron” I said, “No one will want to join after this.”

 

“Sorry, there’s nothing I can do” said Ben.

 

“What about a story on the Bomber Babes and their mission into the storm” I suggested, “That’ll turn some pages.”

 

“We ran that story yesterday” said Ben, “And we ran the victory story the day before.  Sorry, mate but your little escapade is the only big piece this week.”

 

I left the press room dejected and desperate.  The clock showed a little past three.  The hangars were empty save for the mothballed planes.  I sneaked around the buildings and stepped into the control tower.  In his regular place was my old friend, Reginald Ramsey.

 

“Welcome back old friend” he asked.

 

“Thrice, I’ve killed you thrice” I said.

 

“I’m not dead yet” said Relay, “The squadron is very demoralized though.  I don’t know if they can bounce back on their own.”

 

“So what do I do?”

 

“I don’t know” said Relay, “But you shouldn’t have kept that secret from them.  The squadron is as much theirs as it is yours.  It’ll take something big to show them that you understand that.”

 

“What about Miho and Akebi?  Any advice on that?”

 

“Well there’s always – who are those guys?”

 

A pair of gentlemen led a group of five into the hangar.  Relay ran through his little list and none of the squadron was on the ground at the moment.  A quick flash across the radio then both of us headed down the tower to talk to the group.  The men had several clipboards and ticked away with pencils as they went down the line of mothballed planes.

 

“They’re in good condition” said a voice, “Did you want to hold on to them or sell them off?”

 

“Sell them” said Billy’s voice, “I don’t think there’ll be a chance for revival after this scandal.”

 

“What are you doing?” I protested, “We’ve still got until the end of the month to meet the quota!”

 

“Well, since your recent scandal the reputation of the Bluebirds has been tarnished to say the least” said Willy, “The halls are erupting with talk that this is a place for bawdy behaviour and delinquents.”

 

“So long as you are associated with the squadron this little club there is no chance to recover” said Billy, “A damn shame really.  You were doing really well in the tourney too.”

 

“And Miho and Akebi were such nice girls.”

 

“You can’t just get rid of us like that” said Relay, “We can still rework our image.”

 

“With what?  Another rebranding scheme?” said Billy, “I’m sorry but I doubt it will work.”

 

“What if the squadron got rid of the delinquents” I said.

 

“Interesting” said Billy, “That may work.  The squadron shows that it still is a place for gentlemen.  Knights of the air if you will.  Very well, Mr. Walker, I accept your resignation as squadron leader.  You there!  Make sure you get the story straight.  Mr. Walker was forcibly removed from command, remember that.”

 

I stripped off my jacket and handed it to Relay.  I had never felt so naked.  I patted Relay on the shoulder and together we walked back toward the tower.

 

“Stupid move, boy” said Relay.

 

“I just gave up everything” I said, “Of course it’s stupid.  But now you’ve got a chance to restart.”

 

“You gave up everything to help us?” he said, “You didn’t give us a chance, you just ran away.”

 

“Then what should I have done?” I yelled, “I have no idea what to do!”

 

“You need to do something!” said Relay, “A squadron leader doesn’t carry everything on his shoulders.  He leads!”   

 

“Well it’s too late now” I said, “The resignation has been tendered.  Now I need to fix my problems with Miho and Akebi.  Any ideas?”

 

“God damn it” he said in a huff, “I don’t know.  Maybe you should go back into your sorted past and figure it out.  You know, the Noble Sisters?”

 

“You mean the Three Witches” I muttered.

 

I took the next ferry to London.  When I had arrived it was a little past five o’clock, enough time to catch them.  The streets were second nature to me, but it was strange to be home.  There was a small little restaurant where you could just walk-in and take a seat, a pub for minors if you will.  The tables were dark wood and the chairs had red cushions.  Old pictures from around the world hung on the walls, my favourite was the one of the men eating on a skyscraper’s girder.  Above the bar were several medals and a picture of a soldier beside his sweetheart.  I spied the floor looking for three particular women.

 

“I’ll have an Assam tea, please.”

 

“Orange pekoe, please.”

 

“Darjeeling, of course.”

 

“Three teas, anything else for now?”

 

“Four teas.  Earl Grey, hot” I said taking my seat.

 

“Sugar’s Blues, what a pleasant surprise” said Darjeeling, “What brings you to our little table?”

 

“He seems disturbed” said Assam, “Perhaps a little perturbed.”

 

“Is everything okay, Earl – I mean Sugar’s Blues?” asked Orange Pekoe.

 

The words stuck in my throat.  Despite their warm welcome and gentle appearance, all I could focus on was Darjeeling’s icy eyes.  The three girls spoke freely while I struggled to say the words.  Steam rose from my tea as I sat in silence.

 

“Well you certainly have done well” said Darjeeling to me.

 

“Indeed, Bluebird Squadron has exceeded expectations in reaching the finals” said Orange Pekoe, “Congratulations.”

 

“You seem to be soaring to the heavens” said Assam.

 

Darjeeling raised her cup, “Congratulations on your success, Captain Wa-“

 

“I’m not captain” I said, “Not anymore.”

 

Noble Darjeeling sipped her tea, “Oh dear.  What happened?”

 

“I – I…”

 

“He’s here for advice” said Assam, “But we need to know the problem before we can give an answer.”

 

“Take your time” said Orange Pekoe with a gentle smile.

 

“I did what I did to you” my look fell, “and to Earl Grey.  I didn’t want it to happen, but damn I’m an idiot.”

 

“Earl Grey and me…” Darjeeling nearly dropped her cup, “Who did you scorn?”

 

“Miho, and Akebi.  I don’t know what I was thinking or feeling.  I mean you know, just like with –“

 

“It’s hard to cherish two diamonds when you only have eyes for one” said Darjeeling, “I remember this problem well.”

 

“How did you get over it?”

 

“Time” she said, “Time heals all things.  But the wound you’ve caused these two may take a very long time indeed.”

 

“And as time passes, so their scorn will grow” said Assam, “Like a weed in the garden.  Should it be untended, the beauty of the flower will be lost beneath the thorns.”

 

“I don’t follow” I said.

 

“You need to do something” said Orange Pekoe.

 

“Win them back.”

 

Orange Peko slapped me, “No.  No girl wants to be an object for you to win and lose on a whim.  You need to show them you’re truly sorry.”

 

“Darjeeling” I said, “What could I have done to have stayed with her and not hurt you.”

 

“You couldn’t have done anything” she said stirring her tea, “But you only needed to say three words.”

 

“Three words?” I asked.

 

Her icy eyes melted and turned into the warm and endless sea.  She smiled gently as she withdrew into a long buried memory.  Was she thinking of me?  Of her?  Or was she playing a memory that could have been?

 

“Three little words.  Sometimes three little words is all you need.” she said softly and met my eyes, “Words that alone mean nothing, but together mean everything.  Fragile words that bear the weight of the world and shows your heart.”

 

"Care to tell me those three words?"

 

Darjeeling shook her head, "Those three words change with every person.  You'll have to figure it out on your own."

 

I tossed a crumpled bill and a few coins on the table.  

 

"If I said those three words, would I still have had a chance with her?"

 

The Noble Sisters bid me farewell, nothing more, nothing less, and they disappeared into the crowd.  London fog covered the city and the chill bit through my shirt.  The foghorn blared as I approached the dock and boarded the ferry.  As the little ship cautiously slipped over the waves I leaned over the rail pondering Darjeeling’s advice.

 

_Three little words.  Words that alone mean nothing, but together mean everything.  Fragile words.  Three little words._

 

Dusk was giving way to evening when I returned to Excalibur.  A notice was posted on the apartment door instructing me to clear the items from my office.  I crumpled the page and threw it away.  The task can wait until the morrow.  The next day went by as it always has, in a blurry haze.  The lunch bell rang and the hungry students shuffled down the hall to the cafeteria.  The staff filled our trays with slop and stuff posing as meat.  I took my seat away from the other lads.  Sitting at the table by the window were the lads of Bluebird Squadron dressed in their unique jackets.  Behind them was a rowdy table of idiots babbling about things they knew nothing about.

 

“Can you believe it?  They get carried through two rounds and their boss up and quits.  What a sorry lot.”

 

“And have you seen their little recruitment ad?  Join the flight to victory.  What a bunch of crap.  Those dumb fighters can’t do a damn thing.”

 

“I hear one of their guys crashed a plane during the match and they lost an entire wing the match before.  Skilled pilots my ass.”

 

Smilin’ Susie crashed his fist against the table.  Peacock grabbed his sleeve and held him in his seat.  Piccadilly and Lucky glared at their meals while the gits continued their conversation.

 

“How about the kid that crashed?  Did he die?”

 

“Nah, he’s fine from what I hear.  Shame he didn’t though, we don’t need another airhead hanging around here.  I mean look at them over there with their fancy jackets.  They think they’re better than us.”

 

“Oh yeah, there better than us.  At losing.  Five years of losses and they didn’t even get past the first round.  How about it birdies?  That anything to be proud about?”

 

“They got some stupid nicknames too.  Why do you suppose they’re all girls’ names?”

 

“Because their faggots.”

 

Smilin’ Susie was about to hurl a fist into the boy’s face.

 

“Let it go Susie” said Piccadilly.

 

“How do you fancy they got this far?”

 

“It the girls from Ooarai no doubt.  They’re carrying them all the way to the finals.”

 

“Ooarai?  Those are the girls that _also_ got lucky last year” said Frederic, “I hear their commander is very cute.”

 

“Hey, leave the girls out of this” said Piccadilly.

 

“Oh, now you lot will talk to us?”

 

“You got a problem with us, take it up with us” said Memphis.

 

“Oh yeah, I got a problem with you.  You’re sitting in the cafeteria.   _Our_ cafeteria.  Now why don’t you birdies fly away back to your airfield.  Before they bulldoze it.” Said a large lad flipping over Memphis’ tray.

 

Mephis rose from his seat ready to start swinging.

 

“Don’t do it Memphis.  We can’t do anything to disgrace the squadron.  Student Council’s orders” said Piccadilly.

 

“So how about that Miho girl?  She that brown haired girl with the sweet face?”

 

“Oh yeah, she’s the younger sister of Maho.”

 

“Oh, really?  The younger sister?  Think I have a shot with her?”

 

“Probably, she boinked their old commander, and he wasn’t much.”

 

“He was bedding that other girl too.”

 

“Two at once, eh?  So you lot take turns or do you just wait for his sloppy seconds?”

 

“Leave the girls out of this” said Checkmate, “And don’t talk about us like we’re dumb little shits like you.”

 

“And what are you going to do about it?  Hit me?”

 

Under orders, Checkmate retook his seat.

 

“Have you seen the rest of her team though?”

 

“Have you seen the girls of the Type 89?  The blonde one has some amazing –”

 

The insolent whelp hit the ground so hard he bounced like a rubber ball.  My hand throbbed from the hard hit against his jaw.  I swung my around and hit the second git in the face.  The two crawled to their feet.

 

“They might not be able to fight you, but I can."

 

“Ca – I mean, Johnny, what the hell are you doing?” yelled Piccadilly, “The Squad is under orders.”

 

“I’m not part of the squad.”

 

A hard hit crashed against the back of my head and forced me into the table.  The world spun for a moment as I dragged myself up.  I threw fist and elbow into the two lads and they punched back just as hard.  Our brawl took us all over the cafeteria with boys jumping out of the way.  Another hard hit to my face.  I grabbed a food tray and swung it as hard as I could throwing food in every which way.  The hard plastic slapped the boy silly.  Mashed potatoes, at least I think they were potatoes, covered his face when he heaved his punch.  I ducked out of the way and the big fist found its mark into an unsuspecting senior.  The angry senior retaliated with hard blows of his own.  My little scuffle erupted into a brawl as hit after hit struck the unfortunate bystanders.  Now, I don’t remember exactly how it happened but a large glob of jelly, I hope it was jelly, soared through the air and landed in a freshman’s hair.

 

“Food fight!”

 

In an instant cafeteria food way flying in every which way and splattering everywhere.  Our brawl groans and moans were drowned out by shouts and screams of the culinary melee.  In the midst of the chaos I made my way to the squad’s table dodging potatoes, and buns, and ketchup.

 

“Cease and desist!” ordered a teacher, “So help me God I will suspend each and every one of you if you don’t stop now!”

 

The lads were taking cover behind a flipped table, throwing food back.

 

“Best get out of here lads” I said to the lads.

 

“Roger that.”

 

“Piccadilly, Memphis, punch through that line and keep running until you get through those doors.  Checkmate, Susie, Paulie circle around the left and keep firing all that you can.  Draw some of those guys to you and they’re little fight will cover your retreat” I ordered, “Okay, break!”

 

“Wait, what about you?” asked Memphis.

 

“I’m off to do something stupid.”

 

One the count of three the squadron broke out from their little table fort and blitzed to their positions.  Putrid mess soared over their heads.  They grabbed handfuls of mush and hurled them as they passed through the crowd.  The crowd descended on Checkmate, Susie and, Paulie but through force of will they pushed through and escaped through the left.  Piccadilly and Memphis charged down the centre into the sights of the shouting teacher.  In order to protect them I slid over the stained floor and tripped up the teacher.  

 

"Walker!  That's a week's suspension for you!"

 

I continued to slide by, covered in condiments and escaped with the lads through the doors.

 

“Ha! Ha!  Nice one!” said Piccadilly, “I think he landed in the pudding.  Johnny?  Johnny?”

 

I fled down the other hallway and disappeared into the campus.

 

The night was chilly even with the good summer weather.  The door to the lounge creaked open with the office door following suit.  I cautiously pushed my books and personal affects into a little cardboard box before sneaking out.  The light flashed open and the lads stood around glaring at me.

 

“You’ve got some explaining to do” said Piccadilly.

 

_Three little words._

 

“I’ve failed you” I said, “It’s that simple.  I’ve failed you.  It doesn’t matter if we won the first match or the second because I hid the fact that our club might disappear for good.  I put the burden on my shoulders because I didn’t want to shatter your hopes and dreams.  But because of that the news was so much harder on all of you.  And then when everything collapsed, I ran away.  And that’s not acceptable for a leader to do.  I was thinking of myself and pretended to think of you.  I’m sorry lads, but I’m not fit to be your squadron leader.  I’ve failed you, I’ve failed the squadron, and I’ve failed Ooarai too.  So, if you’ll please let me pass and I’ll be out of your hair for good.”

 

“You’re a daft git” said Smilin’ Susie.

 

“Aye” said Regal, “A real moron.”

 

“Dumbass” said Peacock.

 

“You are selfish.  That damn resignation of yours was a real kick in the teeth you know.  You left us with our ass hanging in the breeze” said Piccadilly, “But you also care about this squadron more than anyone else here.  Hell, you fought for the lads when we couldn't ourselves.  And got a week's suspension on top of it."

 

“Always the first into the damn fight and never letting us take the risks.  Carrying everything on your shoulders and refusing to share the load.  And how did that go?  Everything blew up in your face.” said Lucky, “But you do listen, from time to time and take our counsel when it matters.”

 

“You’re too damn tough on the rookies.  Putting on a false face just to scare them stiff, paralyzing them.  When they pushed back, you pushed back harder and harder until you almost broke them” said Nancy, “But it’s because you want us to be the best we can, not smoldering wrecks.”

 

“You’re a damn failure as a leader, but you don’t get to run away.  Not this time, not now” Relay tossed me my jacket, “You want to make it right, than make it right.  You created the Bluebirds and you’re going to watch it fall apart if it comes to it.  Now get to work.  We need forty members by the end of the month.”

 

I looked at Sugar’s Blues, “I can’t do it alone.”

 

“Then lead” said Relay.

 

“Orders, Captain?”

 

“Orders, Captain?”

 

“Orders.”

 

“What do you need done?”

 

“Start recruiting” I said inspired by their loyalty, “Anything you can.  We need 18 members.  Let’s get this done.”

 

“Bluebirds!” led Piccadilly.

 

“Bluebirds!” cheered the squadron.

 

Throughout the rest of the week the lads spent more hours on the campus pestering students than in the skies.  Their passion for AirCom was extraordinary and they showed it in their efforts.  For everyone that refused, they doubled their efforts on the next.  There was no telling how many fliers and application forms they handed out, how many hands they shook or people they spoke to in a day.  As week closed we had no success.  And the meeting with Ooarai was on Saturday.

 

“They won’t like you showing up” said Melody as we walked down the hall.

 

“Yup.”

 

“This might cause fallout between the teams you know.”

 

“Yup.”

 

“Well, it’s not like we can do much about it anyway.”

 

“Yup.”

 

“You’re not even listening to me, are you?”

 

“Nope.”

 

White light shone through the opening door.  Nine pairs of eyes glared at me, the tenth looked away.  You could hear a pin drop it was so silent.  Melody just walked into the room and took his spot while I meekly followed.

 

Noriko broke the silence, “What are you doing here?”

 

I sighed, “I’m still the team’s squadron leader.  That’s why I’m here.”

 

"Miho..." said Yuzu softly.

 

"It's fine" she said softly, "Let's begin."

 

I tore open the red envelope and pulled out the pages.  It was no surprise who we would be facing.

 

"Ohka," I said, "we're taking on the top squadron of AirCom.  They're led by Mitsuo Fuchida II, call sign God Wind.  Honestly our chances don't look too good."

 

"Who's on the ground?" asked Melody.

 

Miho tore open her envelope, "St. Glorianna Women's Academy led by Darjeeling."

 

"Shouldn't be too hard then" said Momo, "I expect they will field a force mostly composed of Churchill tanks with Matildas as support and perhaps a few Valentines."

 

"That's still 30 tanks" said Asuza, "Can a bomber knock out that many?"

 

"If we get lucky, maybe four or five if they're grouped really tight for each 1000lbs of bombs or so, but they won't let you do that" said Melody, "And Ohka won't let the bombers through without a fight."

 

"What about Ohka?" Asked Yuzu, "Do we need to worry about their bombers?"

 

"Doubt it," said Melody, "They'll probably fly full interception.  Zeros mixed with Ki's."

 

"What about Earl Grey" I asked, "She'll be the real problem I think."

 

"Who?"

 

I took a breath, "When I used to... visit St. Glorianna, I would watch their practices.  There was a girl named Earl Grey.  She's Darjeeling's second in command.  They called her the Queen of Battle because she would lead her Cromwell tanks around the battle field like a queen on the chess board.  Her Cromwells will definitely appear and she'll drive circles around you if you let her."

 

"Let's make a plan then" said Momo, "Where's the match?"

 

I put up the map, "Dover."

 

The meeting went on and on with no progress being made.  Thirty tanks were impossible to contain with only eight and the bombers were completely vulnerable to fighters from Ohka.  The commanders poured over the map, the rosters, anything they thought would help.  All the while, nine pairs of eyes glared at me suspiciously.  As if I was some unwelcome guest the cat dragged in.  I was happy when the hour came and the girls started to file out.  Miho and I were the last I the room as we filed our sheets of paper.  

 

"I should get going" she said.

 

"Miho, wait" I put my hand on her shoulder, "I need to talk to you."

 

"No, it's okay."

 

"No, it's not.  I did something horrible and... And..."

 

_Three little words._

 

"I'm so sorry.  I really am.  I want you to know that I never wanted to lead you on like that and I definitely didn't want to hurt you.  I never wanted to hurt you.  It's just that... I like you, but..."

 

"Stop, just stop" she said turning away.

 

"I wanted to get close to you, to get to know you better but I did too much.  And I couldn't stop and it kept getting stronger and stronger..."

 

"Listen, I know but I don't..." She glanced away.

 

"And everyone around us pushed us closer and I let them because..."

 

"I never wanted it to..."

 

"I am sorry.  And I hope you can forgive me.  I like you, I really do, but... I think..."

 

Her eyes met mine, "We should..."

 

"Just be friends!" We said together.

 

We look at each other with amazement.  All the time together the bonds we thought we were making, we're nothing at all.  Just a little illusion the others thought they were seeing.  A small grin started to crack across my face.  A small smile started to beam from hers.  After a moment or two we started to giggle, then to laugh.

 

"Well then, let's be friends" I said.

 

"Right" she said with a smile and a twinkle in her eye.

 

"So... What do we do now?"

 

Miho grinned devilishly, "Well, I know a little ice cream parlour down the way if you're up for it."

 

"If it's the one I'm thinking about it's a good one" I replied with a sly smile.

 

"Good, then it's your treat then" she said with a skip out the door.

 

"We're going just as friends right?" I asked nervously.

 

"Of course" she said with a small twinkle out the corner of her eye, "Just… as friends."

 

The stars were starting to break throughout the black velvet blanket and twinkle like white diamonds.  I stood at the door with my hand frozen on the air ready to knock.  A script was running in my mind over and over and over again, only to be forgotten when she appeared.  I closed my eyes tightly took a deep breath and rapped against the door.  The seconds felt like minutes.

 

"Who is it?"

 

"It's me."

 

"Go away Johnny.  She doesn't want to see you."

 

"Shinobu?  Please, just let me talk to her."

 

"Go away, Johnny." Said Noriko.

 

"Akebi are you there?  Please listen."

 

"She doesn't want to talk to you." Said Taeko.

 

_Three little words._

 

"I need you!" I blurted out, "I need you, and not just for that stupid literature course.  I really care about you."

 

"Oh yeah? And what about Miho?" Retorted Shinobu.

 

"What happened between Miho and me, it was just a big misunderstanding.  You're the only girl for me.  Everything that happened between us, that was real.  I wasn't pretending or trying to take advantage of you.  It was real.  Our laughs, our little talks, everything."

 

"You cut her deep, Johnny." Said Noriko.

 

"And I'm truly sorry.  If I could go back and change everything I would.  But the best I can do is be here for you now and make it up to you that way.  I never wanted to hurt you.  When I saw your face that day, everything broke inside me too.  I don't want to see tears in your eyes, not again.  I need you, Akebi.  I need you to smile again."

 

"What are you going to do, Johnny?"

 

"Anything" I said pressing my head against the door, "Anything to make her smile again and take the pain away.  If she needs me to shout my feelings from the top of a mountain, I'll do it.  If she wants me to whisper it to her like a lover, I'll do it.  If she wants me to swim the channel, I'll do it.  If she wants me to go... I'll go.  Anything to make her happy again.  But I need to hear it from her."

 

I stood in silence for what seemed like eternity.  The cold wood shunned my open palm and pressed against my forehead.  Tears welled up in my eyes but I would not let them fall.  Everything inside me screamed to force the door open and make myself be heard, but I couldn't do that.  I couldn't let myself hurt her anymore.  In a fit of frustration and anger against myself I pushed off the door and paced outside in a huff.

 

"Oh I am fate's fool!" I shouted to the deaf heavens above.

 

"Oh I am _fortune's_ fool," said a soft voice, "that's the proper line."

 

The woman I had scorned stood in the door dressed in her red and white uniform.  Her eyes timidly glanced at me before looking away toward the stars.  The long blonde hair so accustomed to being tied in a long tail was loose and free in the evening wind.  The golden spiral had disappeared hidden under the waves and locks.

 

"Akebi" I said astonished, "listen, I never -"

 

"Shut up," she said holding back the tears, "I heard it all.  Everything.  And I... I... I forgive you."

 

A great weight disappeared from my shoulders.  I wanted to leap forward and embrace her, but she was still too fragile to touch.

 

"Come inside," she said kindly, "we have a lot of work to do."

 

"Thank you.  For giving me another chance."

 

Akebi froze in the door, "I'm sorry, but we can't be together."

 

It felt like a knife drove itself into my heart and twisted before a horse kicked my chest.

 

"Why?" I asked confused and furious.

 

"Because, I... I don't feel the same.  Not anymore.  That's all I'll say on that" she said with a deep sad breath, "but we can still be friends, right?"

 

_No.  No we can't.  I need you._

 

"Yes.  Yes we can" I said hiding the torrent of emotions.

 

"So, when's the big test?"

 

"About a week."

 

"Well then, let's get started."


	16. Chapter 16

I groaned in exacerbated frustration, “This makes no sense.  There’s like a hundred characters in this and keeping track of them all is a right pain.”

 

“Don’t stress over all the characters,” advised Akebi, “There are only a few really important ones.  Here, let’s start with him.”

 

“Puck?” I asked, “Okay, so he’s a fairy and all he does is mess up everyone’s love life.”

 

_Well, that sounds familiar._

 

“Yes” said Akebi, “But more importantly his little escapades is what sets the whole play in motion.”

 

Outside the hangar the other fighters of his wing started to land, careful to avoid the parked tanks. Miho’s company was also starting to roll in.  A Hurricane fighter rolled in with several scratches and holes all over its body.  Naughty Nancy jumped out of the cockpit and went to speak with the mechanical team.

 

“Captain Walker, Ms. Sasaki,” Nancy saluted, “I apologize for disturbing you.”

 

I returned the salute, “Don’t salute me.  And don’t worry about it.  How was practice?”

 

“Well,” he said.

 

“That was absolutely amazing!” said Yukari as she walked in with the other girls, “I didn’t think I’d ever get to see fighters dogfight that close to the ground.”

 

“Yeah, and those bombs sure are scary” said Saori, “It’s a good thing our tanks are lined with carbon.”

 

“A little carbon helps,” said Melody, “but our bombs are safe too.  No shrapnel, no actual explosives, just a big bang and a flash.  Oh, hello Sugar’s what are you doing here.”

 

“Studying,” said Akebi, “Though I’m not sure anything is getting through.”

 

“Hey, something’s rattling around in there,” I knocked on my noggin, “I just don’t think it’s useful.”

 

“Umm, why are you studying here?” asked Miho.

 

“He seems to recall more when we work here, or in our tank hangar,” said Akebi, “I think it’s the white noise.”

 

I simply shrugged.  It was true, I remembered and understood more when working in the hangars.  As to why is anyone’s guess.

 

The mechanical team brought out barrels of laminate, and all the tools they’d need to do the necessary maintenance.  Before they started the lunch bell rang and everyone decided to take a break. Naughty Nancy sat on his wing and looked at the portrait of the woman.  The lads started to file in and gave me the look.

 

“Nancy, come here a moment,” I said taking out a small box from my pocket.

 

“Sir!”

 

“Don’t call me sir,” I stood up, “The old boys and I have had several discussions about you and your conduct.  In particular the slovenly state of your uniform.”

 

Nancy was in a bit of a fret, “I don’t understand.  I’ve kept it clean and press and –“

 

“It’s unbefitting of your rank,” I tossed the small box to him, “Congratulations, Hurricane Wing Leader.”

 

“Congratulations, Naughty Nancy,” said Regal, “Have fun leading the rookies.”

 

“Wing Leader Naughty Nancy,” he muttered in pleasant surprise.

 

Relay smiled, “You can change the name if you want.”

 

“Sir!  I would do no such thing,” said Nancy, “You gave me that call sign.  That would be disrespectful to you.”

 

“Don’t worry lad,” said Smilin’ Susie, “We’ll take no offense.  If you don’t like it change it.”

 

“I wouldn’t do that,” I warned, “It’s bad luck to change the name.”

 

“Mind if I ask you something,” said Saori, “Why do you give each other girls’ names?  Why don’t you name your planes something else?  Like animals?”

 

“We have an animal,” said Regal, “Me!  The Regal Seagull.”

 

“But she’s still a girl,” said Saori pointing to the painted woman.

 

Piccadilly laughed, “She’s got a point.  Anyway, we name them after girls because… well… it’s tradition.  Since the squadron started our planes have always been girls.  Just the way it is I suppose.”

 

“So, has anyone ever changed their name?” asked Hana opening her lunchbox.

 

“The Captain,” said Lucky, “And Relay too.”

 

“Really?” asked Soari, “What were you called?”

 

Relay looked at me for approval.  I nodded.  Now was as good a time as any.

 

“Countess Christina,” said Relay, “She was dressed in a white feathery dress, had black hair and a pearl necklace.  Quite the dame if I do say so myself.”

 

“And you, Sugar’s?”

 

“Sugar’s Blues” I said with a smirk.

 

“Bullshit,” said Memphis, “You were Earl Grey once.”

 

“That was the first name change,” I said, “I changed Sugar’s Blues to Earl Grey.  Then I changed it back.”

 

“Why the change?” asked Hana, “Those were such nice names.”

 

“We shook hands with the devil and got burned” I said leaning back into my seat, “That’s why you don’t change your name.  It was bad luck to change it.  _It is_ bad luck to change it.  So keep it.”

 

Akebi and the others gave us a perplexed look.  Relay, Piccadilly, Lucky, and I had a silent conversation of various looks and stares.  The moments passed in awkward silence but we soon came to a consensus.

 

“Earl Grey and I did a maneuver called the Devil’s Handshake,” Relay held up his hands to explain, “What happens is that two fighters go head on against each other at very high speed.  A few meters before they pass the pilots force the plane vertical and effectively skid the plane through the air to lose a lot of air speed.  The goal is to force the pursuers to climb leaving them open to attack.”

 

“Its’ mighty risky though,” I took over the explanation, “When the planes go vertical and skid, the wings pass meters from each other.  Also the pursuers might not pull up.  So, there’s a high chance everyone can collide.” 

 

Everyone took a moment to imagine the maneuver.  The lads seemed to understand how dangerous such a maneuver was and shook their heads at how stupid or desperate someone had to be to do it.  The girls were more confused, but a couple seemed to see it form.

 

“That explains why you froze up during the last match,” inferred Regal.

 

“Why would you do something like that?” asked Akebi.

 

“Because we wanted to win,” said Relay, “But it’s a long story.”

 

“I’d like to hear it if it’s okay,” said Brooklyn Betty.

 

“Same here” said Cathie.

 

The others, boys and girls, all chimed in wanting to hear the tale.

 

“Grab your popcorn and take your seats boys and girls.  It’s Story Time with Sugar’s Blues” joked Piccadilly.

 

“Alright,” I sighed, “I’ll skip all the boring stuff and get to the point.  Two years ago we had a match against Jaeger.  The squadrons had beaten each other back and forth for a damn long time and there were only four left.  Two Jaeger, two White Knights…”

 

Lines upon lines of black smoke created a web across the sky.  White hot tracer fire flew like a river of stars accompanied by the bright orange shells of the Spitfire.  Earl Grey teased my enemy as we led him through a merry chase.  The Me-109 was no chump however and with every moment he was gaining.

 

“Come on!  Give me more of a fight, boy-o!” I laughed dodging the attacks, “You couldn’t hit the broadside of a barn with the barrel of shotgun pressed right up against it!  Countess, how you doing?”

 

“I’ve got one on my tail,” he replied, “Think you can get him off me?”

 

“Yeah, but can’t you shake him?”

 

“Of course I can, but why shake him when we can take him out?”

 

“Okay, Thach Weave” I ordered.

 

I turned toward my wingman but a dangerously close burst of fire forced me away.  In the distance I saw the Countess experience the same thing.  There was no way we could get close to each other.  The loss of speed during the turn would give them the perfect opportunity. 

 

_God damn!  I guess he heard me!_

 

“Baron von Dusseldorf is pissed” I said laughing.

 

“We need to do something Earl” said Countess Cristina, “At this rate we’ll be out of fuel.”

 

“Devil’s Handshake” I replied, “We’ll shake them off with that.”

 

“Alright.  Let’s show them what for!” he said with approval, “Dive at thirty degrees toward me.  I’ll do the same.”

 

“Break!” I ordered with a great smile.

 

_Two new Aces coming up._

 

The Spitfires nosed down an accelerated rapidly.  The 109s stuck to us like glue but couldn’t line up their shots.  To be certain I did a little bobbing to make his life a little harder.  Blood rushed from my head as I levelled out.  The 109 was fearfully close.

 

_Three, two, one!_

 

I jerked the stick hard pushing the plane upright.  I glanced Countess’ Spitfire doing the same.  The planes careened toward each other.  I smirked as I waited for the 109 to show me its tail. 

 

BAM! 

 

“Mayday!  Mayday!  Mayday!” screamed the radio.

 

The Spitfire immediately started to spin and tumble out of control.  The world spun around me the sky became the ground and up was down.  I panicked and glanced that my wing had been torn completely off.  Hurriedly I threw open the canopy and unbuckled from the seat.  The force of the spin was so great I was thrown like a rag doll from the plane.  I had to calm down.  My hand grabbed the cord, I counted to three. 

 

The white sheet spilled out of the sack and unfurled.  The risers smacked my head and I felt a hard snap when the chute fully opened.  I searched the skies for a second chute.  And there it was far below me.  Metal and shrapnel started to rain around me.  The fighter wrecks tumbled around me.  Four wrecks, there were four wrecks, two Spitfires and two Me-109s.  Above me were two other parachutes.

 

The snow covered ground got closer and closer.  I grabbed the risers and bend my knees.  The hard ground crashed against my feet and I tumbled to the ground.  I stripped off the parachute and ran toward the last place Countess Christina was headed.

 

“Countess!  Countess, where are you!”

 

“Kamerade!  Kamerade!  Help me, I’m tangled!” shouted a voice.

 

“And that’s all I’ll say on that” I said remembering every detail.

 

“But what happened to Countess… er… I mean Relay?” asked Akebi.

 

“I had the bad luck of smacking into several trees and rocks when I was landing.  After all the smacking I impacted the ground in a bad way” he said lifting his bum leg, “This piece got mangled up pretty bad and that’s why I walk with this little thing.”

 

“Yeah, sorry about that Relay.  I did a really dumb thing back then” I said remorsefully.

 

“Quit beating yourself up over it.  I did the damn thing too.”

 

“Anyway kids, after that little stunt, the judges decided we lost the match, I got reprimanded, grounded, demoted, and my girlfriend broke up with me shortly after.” I said looking at the crowd, “That’s why it’s bad luck to change your plane’s name.”

 

“But you changed it back to Sugar’s Blues” observed Hana, “So isn’t that bad luck also?”

 

“I never thought of that” I said with sudden realization, “Probably, even doubly so.  Crap!”

 

The bell rang once more to signal the end of lunch.

 

“Well that’s our signal,” said Akebi, “It’s back to practice for everyone.  And back to studying for you.”


	17. Chapter 17

Tick-tock, tick-tock, tick-tock.  The terrifying and ominous passage of time hounded our every thought.  Pencils scratched away at pages desperately scribbling words into long paragraphs and circling answers in a panic.  Erasers desperately smudged graphite over the pages.  The eagle eyes of the teacher were fixed on the hands of the clock waiting to say those two dreaded words.

 

“Pencils down!”

 

The class quickly chicken scratched their final answers.  Pencils clattered to the desk ask the pages of the test fluttered shut.  One by one and in alphabetical order the tests were handed in.

 

 _The worst thing about being a Walker is that you’re always last on the list._ I thought as I dropped the test on his desk.

 

“Wait, Mr. Walker” said the teacher clicking his infamous red pen, “Let’s see how well you did.”

 

I had spent the last week buried in the old literature and spent countless hours with Akebi interpreting, reviewing, and understanding every single word but apprehension ran over my body and made my hands shake.  A thousand red marks scrawled over the written portion.  Evil X’s sat beside the multiple choice.  With a click of his pen and a glare through the top of his black horned rimmed glasses he handed me the test with the dreaded final grade.  I crumpled the page as I walked out the door.

 

“How did you do?”

 

“Well I… wait who are you?” I asked looking at the unfamiliar face.

 

Waiting in the hall was a lad of average height but odd proportions.  He was dressed in our school uniform but it was grossly too big in some places while far too small in others.  The sleeves and trouser legs hung loosely like window drapes.  Around the barrel chest the jacket and shirt fit rather snuggly as did the trousers around the hips.  The blonde hair was done kept oddly as if it was piled into his tall top hat.  The long fringes partially covered his thick black glasses.

 

“Achoo!” he sneezed in a high pitched girly voice.

 

“Akebi?  Is that you?” I asked leaning in to peer through the disguise, “You know you can just walk in we don’t have any rules prohibiting visitors.”

 

Akebi removed her top hat and let her hair fall free, spiral and all.  She neatly folded her fake glasses and tucked them away in the borrowed blazer.

 

“I thought it might be a good idea to talk to Akiyama about sneaking in,” she said with a smile, “I didn’t want to distract you or your fellow students.  Anyway, how did you do?”

 

I handed her the test, “Take a look for yourself.”

 

She had a straight face when she saw the grade, “A C.”

 

“A C+” I said with a big grin and awfully proud of myself, “I didn’t think it was possible, but I passed the course.  And it’s all thanks to you.”

“Captain!” hollered Piccadilly, “Oh, afternoon Akebi, nice uniform.  We should all get going, the briefing is pretty darn soon and you know that Momo-chan doesn’t like to be kept waiting.”

 

“You shouldn’t call her Momo-chan” said Akebi with a giggle.

 

A group of six fresh-faced boys stood around the hangars as we headed into the briefing.

 

“Hello gents” I said cordially, “What can I help you with?”

 

“We’re here to sign up for the squadron” one of them said.

 

I looked closely at the boy, “Sorry for staring but you look familiar.”

 

“Ha, ha!  You’d probably recognize me if I still had those bruises” he replied, “You pack a mean right hook.”

 

I suddenly realized that this group of boys were the same lads I accidentally hit during the brawl in the cafeteria.  The little group was a mix of seniors, sophomores, and freshmen.  A couple had aviation experience but it wouldn’t be enough to justify throwing them into fighters.  After a quick discussion I had them top off the bomber crews and we headed inside.

 

The full roster of both teams had assembled in the Bluebird’s study room.  The large map was spread across for everyone to see.  I took my place beside Miho at the front of the assembly.  To my left were all the girls from Ooarai, tank commanders and crew.  To the right the men of Bluebird Squadron.

 

“Alright let’s get this started” I said clearing my throat, “Miho, please start us off.”

 

“Everyone, our opponents for the final match is St. Gloriana Women’s Academy.  We faced them before in a practice match.  Now the tournament allows for up to thirty vehicles,” Miho pushed the map aside to scribble on the board, “We expect their forces to look like this: 5 Churchill Mk VIIs accompanied by 5 Mk IIIs.  Ten Matilda tanks, and finally 10 Cromwell tanks led by Earl Grey.”

 

“Ms. Nishizumi” Yuuki raised her hand, “How are we going to fight thirty tanks with only eight?”

 

“Our tankery team will be focusing on the 10 Cromwell tanks and probably the Mk VII’s” replied Miho, “We can’t really do anything about the other 15 tanks.”

 

“Which is where we step in lads” I said, “As soon as the match starts all planes will be on ground strike.  That includes you rookies.  Right out of the gate fighters will rush to the enemy starting zone and hit them hard.  Bomber group follows close behind to mop up.  If all goes well we’ll knock out half the enemy force.”

 

Miho took the lead, “Tankery will split into two groups.  The larger of the two will push the attack to the objective zone.  The second group will be on the defensive but might be called on if we need help.  Group two will take positions here, here, and here.”

 

“Captain” Smilin’ Susie stood up, “What about after the bombing run?  What’s the strategy for dealing with Ohka?”

 

I sighed, “After the bombing run the squadron will split into its wings.  It’s free flight from there.  Follow your wing commanders, watch each other’s backs.  That’s all.”

 

“Wait, so there’s no grand plan for Ohka?” asked Daisy.

 

“Nope” I said straight, “The wing commanders and I have gone over it a hundred times.  There is no way to counter Ohka with a plan.  That’s why we need to knock out Darjeeling’s tanks as soon as possible to give the Ooarai girls a fighting chance.  Other than that, the only strategy is to fight.”

 

The lads’ hearts sank.

 

“But we don’t need a damn plan anyway” I said trying to lift their spirits, “Look how far we got.  From a dismal qualifiers to the finals of the tournament.  We’ve got this in the bag boys.  See that scoreboard, that’s your proof for how strong we are.  Think of this as your chance to finally get passed me and Lilly.  And to finally wipe that smug look of Ohka’s face.”

 

“What’s the enemy force composition, Captain?” asked Regal.

 

“A mixed force of Zeroes and Ki-84s most likely.  So remember to use your speed.  For the bombers load up your guns with HEFI-TP (high explosive fragmentation incendiary tracer practice).  Their planes are maneuverable but they light up like Christmas trees.”

 

“Good luck everyone” said Miho, “The match starts in two days.”

 

“Wait a second” I interjected, “There’s still one very important matter to deal with.  The match is at 6:00am, so that means we’ll be meeting up at about 5:00.”

 

Mako groaned.

 

“So, who’s bringing breakfast?” I asked.

 

 A strong wind blew from the English Channel over the rocky white cliffs of Dover.  Small outlying communities had been cleared out for the match and the spectators were beginning to file in.  The sun was creaking over the horizon.  Grey clouds loomed low over the rocky terrain.  Meteorology assured me however that there would be no rain for the day.  The sound of the sea was strangely calming as the waves lapped against the shores and cliffs.  The calm before the storm I suppose.  When the radio message cracks over the air the serene sounds of waves will be drowned by shells and guns. 

 

The tanks were arranged in neat rows as if waiting for inspection.  Across the way only half of the enemy force was arrayed before us exactly as we predicted.  The girls of St. Gloriana were dressed smartly in their crimson coats with black shoulders and trim and golden buttons.  Their black skirts matched well with their black shoes.  Darjeeling and the other Noble Sisters were seated at a little table they brought having a spot of tea.  Scattered among the tea drinking tankers were the pilots of Ohka. 

 

The Japanese pilots spoke quickly and minimally when the girls talked to them warmly.  They were dressed in a thick leather outfit that look like it was one solid piece with several pockets around the waist and on the knees.  Dangling from one of the pockets was a long white piece of cloth.  Around their necks was a long white scarf and atop their leather helmets was a pair of square goggles.  The crest of their school, the Imperial Rising Sun, was proudly displayed on the right shoulder.  The squadron’s personal sigil was on the right: a stunning white cherry blossom above two characters which I had been told meant “wind” and “sword”.   

 

Soari had arrived some time ago delivering all sorts of goodies to the girls of Oorai.  Lucky for us she brought a little extra so the lads didn’t starve while we waited for our courier.  The lads and I leaned against the tanks and chatted while out stomachs grumbled.

 

“Finally!” expressed Memphis, “Took you long enough, Paulie.”

 

“Sorry” said Paulie handing out breakfast.

 

“What’d you bring us?” asked Piccadilly.

 

“Banjo” he replied.

 

I tore open the hot tin foil to get to the delicious meal it contained.  A hot egg with bacon and ham was squished between two pieces of rye bread.  I offered the girls a bite but they politely declined.  Delectable egg rolled down my chin after a satisfying bite.  The yellow yolk dripped onto my jacket in a horrendous mess.  While I wiped the egg of my face and jacket the squadron of Ohka walked up to us.

 

“It is customary for pilots to salute officers regardless of team” said Fuchida with hard eyes, “Why do your men remain seated?”

 

“Sorry mate, we don’t salute the Captain so we don’t salute you either” said Regal.

 

“Squadron Leader,” growled Fuchida, “Discipline that man!”

 

I shrugged, “What for?  He’s just doing what we always do.”

 

“Disgraceful” Fuchida growled, “Your squadron’s behaviour is unacceptable.  They are a slovenly mess, sullied their uniforms, and refuse to show officers the respect they deserve.  As squadron leader is it your responsibility to ensure the proper behaviour and conduct of your men.”

 

“Relax mate” I said chewing my breakfast, “No harm in a little egg on your jacket.  Or a missed salute here and there.  Want a bite?”

 

“You are a mockery of AirCom,” he said smacking my sandwich away, “How dare you wear the uniform.  A commander without the gall to discipline his crew cannot earn their respect.  You shame the commanders who came before you.  The White Knights must have fallen far to elect you as their successor.  Straighten up and become hard.  Earn the title properly.”

 

“We aren’t White Knights” said Nancy taking a stand, “We’re Bluebird Squadron.”

 

“A weak squadron regardless” he replied.

 

“Well with that attitude I suppose Gentleman’s Rules don’t apply” I challenged with apprehension.

 

Fuchida scowled, “We shall uphold Gentleman’s Rules as despicable it may be to grant them to you.”

 

“Alright then” I said leaning back against the tank, “See you in the skies.”

 

“Where is your salute?” he demanded, “Show respect to your superior.”

 

“You haven’t earned my respect” I said just to infuriate him.

 

In a furious huff Fuchida returned to his pilots and began to shout at them in Japanese.

 

“Bit of a prick ain’t he?” said Piccadilly.

 

The judges walked onto the field and summoned the commanders to the front.  Sloppily and tired the lads formed into the ranks and files alongside the girls.  Brooklyn Betty struggled to stay awake while Peacock Paulie was strangely awake.  (At least I think he was awake for all I know he could sleep with his eyes open.)  As I walked with Miho to face Darjeeling, Fuchida, and the rest of them the Ohka pilots removed their white cloths from their pockets while their wing leaders distributed small bowls.

 

“Well met, Miho Nishizumi, Captain Walker” said Darjeeling, “I must say it was a pleasant surprise to find out that both of you would be our opponents.  It appears we finally get our official match, Miho.  I hope to see your best as we certainly will bring ours.”

 

 “We will” said Miho, “I hope you don’t mind me saying, but we won’t lose to you again.”

 

Darjeeling giggled, “I don’t mind at all.  As matter of fact I look forward to the challenge.”

 

Fuchida refused to say a single word.

 

As we stood as representatives of our clubs I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was missing.  Then it hit me.  Orange Pekoe stood beside Darjeeling as her second in command.

 

“Where’s Earl Grey?” I finally asked.

 

“She said she would prefer to remain with the other girls of the academy,” said Darjeeling cordially, “Ear Grey would like to wish you well and good luck, Sugar’s.  And I personally would like to wish you good luck, Miho.”

 

“Thank you,” said Miho, “Same to you.”

 

“If you don’t mind please tell Earl Grey that I wish her the best” I said hoping to smooth some old laundry.

 

Darjeeling nodded and smiled in her prim proper ladylike fashion but her looks afterward said, “That wasn’t three words.”

 

The judges quickly ran down the rules as per usual.  Both teams saluted each other as a sign of good sportsmanship.  Ooarai and Bluebird was anxious to begin but as we turned to leave Fuchida began his long speech.  I couldn’t understand a word he said but Miho was kind enough to translate.

 

_Good thing she is trilingual._

 

The Ohka pilots took their white cloths and wrapped them around their brows.  A bright red circle was flanked by a pair of Japanese characters that read “certain victory”, “charge!”, “fighting spirit”, and similar sayings.  The wing leaders walked up and down the line pouring a drink into the little bowls.  When they finished serving the pilots held the bowl out in front of their chest perfectly still.

 

In his gruff and commanding voice Fuchida said, “Gentlemen, today we ascend toward the heavens.  In your planes remember the glory and honour you will uphold.  Remember the generation of pilots that took to the skies before you.  Remember the oldest glories of the Pacific War.  The great Imperial pilots that flew in real battle and gave their lives for their squadron and their Emperor.  Honour them as you soar amongst the winds.  Let their spirits guide your furious strikes and steel your hearts.

“Our mission is simple and we shall not fail.  Our fighters will fall upon the enemy like meteors and rain fire upon the frightened pilots.  Not a single scratch shall befall you for we are the strongest squadron.  Our tanks will storm across the land with thundering cannon and the rattle of machinegun.  Their armour is strong their skill is great, they shall not fail but we must protect them from the dishonorable bombers of our enemy.

“The enemy before you have fallen from grace and are the weakest among us, barely having the skill to defeat the strongest of the weak.  They have risen above their station and claim glory they have not earned.  Their triumphs and victories were borne on the shoulders of the women beneath them, and today they dare to challenge us.  We who are gods among men.  Their hubris will not go unpunished.  The Rising Sun does not bow to the Bluebird.

“Go forth and claim your glory.  For Ohka!  For the Emperor!  Tenno heika banzai!”

 

The pilots drank deeply then shouted as loud as they could, “Banzai!  Banzai!  Banzai!”

 

One of the wing leaders stepped forward and declared, “Mistuo Fuchida banzai!”

 

The pilots replied, “Banzai!  Banzai!  Banzai!”

 

The Bluebirds streaked through the air laden with bombs.  Beneath us clouds of dust followed the hodgepodge of Ooarai tanks as they rolled to their starting positions.  We were no higher than 2,000 meters above the ground, much lower than our normal operations.  The fighters circled over the Ooarai tanks like crows over a battlefield.  The heavy bombers lazily banked and turned as they waited for the signal.  I didn’t count but between all the planes there were over 10,000 pounds of bombs.  More than enough, hopefully.  The flight was eerily silent.  There was only the sound of the engines.

 

“Soldiers, sailors, and airmen of the Allied Expeditionary Force,” said an old voice over the radio, “You are about to embark upon the Great Crusade, toward which we have striven these many months.  The eyes of the worlds are upon you…”

 

The squadron slowed its circling and listened intently to the inspiring voice.

 

“Your task will not be an easy one.  Your enemy is well trained, well equipped, and battle-hardened.  He will fight savagely…”

 

_Well the man has it right._

 

“I have full confidence in your courage, devotion to duty, and skill in battle.  We will accept nothing less than full Victory!  Good Luck!  And let us all beseech the blessing of Almighty God upon this great and noble undertaking” the voice concluded.

 

“Amen” said Paulie.

 

“Amen” said Betty.

 

“Ya’ll got that right” said Memphis.

 

“That puts everything in perspective lads” I said, “Now let’s win this thing.”

 

“Bluebirds!” they cheered.

 

“I hope Ooarai heard that too” said Piccadilly.

 

“They did.  Don’t worry.”

 

I smiled, “Ha! Ha!  Relay, what the heck are you doing up here?  Shouldn’t you be in the control tower?”

 

“I got two new recruits managing air traffic” Relay chuckled, “A pair of communications students.  They can’t be pilots, but at least I’ll have some company up there now.”

 

“Hey Relay,” said Smilin’ Susie, “You mind flying bomber radio all the time?  This way we won’t have to listen to Melody’s bad tunes.”

 

“I’m still here you Scottish twat!” yelled Melody, “Well… on the Wellington anyway.  And there’s nothing wrong with my music!”

 

“MATCH START!” said a robotic voice.

 

“All wings form up!” I ordered, “Spitfires on me!”

 

“Tempests form on my wing!” ordered Lucky.

 

“Hurricanes to me!” said Nancy.

 

“Rookies, get in formation” said Melody.

 

Our illustrious squadron turned into three wings and the bombers brought up the rear.  Beneath us the tanks blitzed across the field and kicked dust high into the air.  The Type 89 and the M3 led the charge with the medium tanks in the centre and the assault guns on the flanks.  Defending the rear with its massive cannon was the Tiger.  I rolled over to signal the tanks.

_We get one shot.  If the bombs miss there’ll be no chance._

 

Soon, the enemy tank formation was in sight.  I could faintly make out the shapes of the tanks, but their speed was the real give away.  Lumbering methodically at the head of the formation must be the Churchill tanks led by Darjeeling with the Mark III’s to the sides.  Slightly further ahead are the Matilda tanks and surging forward were the Cromwells led by Earl Grey.  The must’ve spotted us for as soon as the tanks came into sight they began to scatter.  The heavy Churchills could not do much, but they spread apart to limit the number that could be destroyed by a single bomb.  The Matildas desperately tried to enter the cover of a light wood.  The Cromwells moved magnificently under the command of Earl Grey the tanks weaved and zigged across the field spreading and contracting as she saw fit without losing speed or momentum. 

 

“Fighters!  In sequence!” I ordered, “Hurricanes, you’re up.  Spitfires follow, then the Tempests.”

 

“Alright let’s get it done” said Nancy, “I’ll lead, follow in five seconds rookies.”

 

“Eyes open” said Piccadilly, “Ohka could be about.”

 

One by one the Hurricanes rolled over and began their attack run.  The line of Hurricanes descended rapidly and dropped the pair of 250lbs bombs strapped beneath their wings.  A bright flash must’ve blinded the poor tankers below.  Nancy circled back around as his wing ascended.

 

“I count four hits on the Matildas” he reported, “Good work everyone.  Form up on the bombers.  We will be escort from here on out.”

 

“Understood” said Relay, “Head to point Love 9.  We’ll rendezvous there.”

 

“Spitfires!  Go!  Go!  Go!” I barked, “Hit the Churchills!”

 

My wing dove on the slow, heavy armour.  Five hundred meters, four hundred meters.  I glanced at the speedometer, I was speeding over 500km/h as I targeted the lead Churchill III.  Three hundred meters, the others released their bombs.  Two-fifty, I yanked hard against the stick and dropped my payload.  A massive boom of thunder deafened my ears while a bright white flash blinded me.  When my vision cleared I rolled the plane over to assess the damage.

 

A mess of carnage was strewn below.  The formation of tanks panicked and bumped into each other while trying to dodge in their slow tanks.  One had rammed another, while a pair was cut off by the third.

 

With a nod of satisfaction I radioed, “We got all five of them.  Form up, combat patrol!”

 

“Just the four of us?” asked Regal, “Kind of risky isn’t it?”

 

“No guts no glory” replied Memphis, “Forming on you, Captain.”

 

“Don’t worry, Regal,” said Piccadilly taking his position on my right, “We’ll just plink a few then buzz off.  At least we can get some scouting done so the other fighters can join in.”

 

“Tempests reporting” said Lucky, “We knocked out two Churchill III’s and a pair of VII’s.  We’re headed back to rearm with bombs.  See you later.”

 

“You get Darjeeling?” asked Relay.

 

“Sorry, don’t think so.”

 

_Well that is problematic._

 

“Relay to Miho, we’ve knocked out several tanks.  We didn’t get their flag though.  Sorry.”

 

“Understood,” said Miho.

 

“Roger” I said, “Be quick, we might need you real soon.”

 

“You heard the word lads” said Smilin’ Susie.

 

“Boot it back to base, boys” said Checkmate, “Relay, can you get the mechs to get the bombs ready to load.”

 

“Already done.”

 

I swivelled my head around the cockpit and strained it to get the widest view of the skies as possible.  The bombers were still well behind and had just met up with the Hurricanes.  The Spitfires climbed into the air.  It would be four against twelve.  Poor odds no matter how you look at it.

 

“There they are,” said Piccadilly, “Straight ahead and level.”

 

“Well at least they aren’t diving on us” Memphis sighed.

 

“Bombers are beginning their attack runs” said Relay, “Walker, report enemy location.  Nancy, Betty, rookies, get ready to move out.”

 

I hastily pulled out my map and guessed my location, “Mike 4.  We’re at Mike 4.”

 

“Roger,” said Betty, “Hold on Captain, we’re coming.”

 

The squadron of tiny specks began to spread apart into groups.  I ordered the wing to spread out just a bit in order to encircle the enemy’s centre group.  The little dots grew and grew until I could clearly see our foe.  To the right were five Ki-84s a devilishly fast planes with a great turn.  To the left, the wing of five infamous zeroes. And in the centre…

 

The wings exchanged orange cannon fire and bright yellow machine gun rounds.  The pitiful show of force by the Bluebirds was drowned in the overwhelming torrent from the Rising Sun.  Through skill or divine intervention the fighters passed each other without so much as incurring a scratch.  As I passed through the formation I caught a glimpse of the challenger to the right.

 

The dark green plane was not a Ki nor was it a zero.  Its fuselage, its wings and tail were like a strange hybrid between a Focke Wulf and the Zero.  Emblazoned on the fuselage was the pilot’s insignia.  It was a mighty samurai clad in shining white armour and wielding a mighty katana.  The warrior pointed forward marshalling his men from his seat on a golden dragon.

 

 

“Holy crap!” said Regal, “What the hell were those?”

 

“Shiden-kai’s” I grumbled, “And there are four of them.”

 

“Goddammit” said Regal, “We can’t outrun those no matter what we do.”

 

“But they compress just as easily as the zeroes.” I said.

 

“Right” replied Memphis straining during the turn, “But we can’t dive forever.”

 

“We’ll worry about it later” said Piccadilly, “Let’s knock out a couple of these guys!”

 

The Spitfires broke formation and turned every which way to engage the enemy.  The usual neatness of combat where wingman supported wingman devolved into a swirling melee of chaos.  Whenever I got on the tail of one another would be on me in a second to force me off.  I rolled violently to dodge the flurries and unleashed little bursts of machine gun fire. 

 

Memphis dared to take every single challenger head on.  Not a bad idea when outnumbered.  Piccadilly weaved and bobbed through the battle chasing pursuers off of us.  When a zero would fall on him he would just dive away only to return to his duties.  Regal got on the tail of a Ki-84 that took him on a merry chase.  Regal withheld his shots, he was just trying to scare him out of the battle.  A zero descended from above and eased himself on Regal’s tail.

 

_Come on, come on!_

 

I pulled hard on the stick to try and match the zero’s turn.  The nimble little bastard just kept making it tighter and tighter.  Straining against the g-forces and cutting the throttle the Spitfire ground against the air to match the turn.  The pipper passed over the zero and stopped in the empty space between it and Regal.  A little press on the button released a rain of yellow and orange.  The bullets converged at three hundred meters and buried themselves in the left wing.  Black smoke burst from the tail satisfyingly.  If the laminate wasn’t there to protect the plane, the wing would have been ripped clean off and the plane would have spun uncontrollably to the earth below.

 

A spattering of machine gun spilled over my right wing in bright stream.  I pushed the throttle to emergency power and began to bank left and right.  I glanced over my shoulder.  A Ki-84 was on my tail and gaining.  I turned hard to the right and he moved to match.  Using the rudder, the elevator, and the throttle I adjusted every aspect of the turn.  He and I moved like a snake through the sky.

“Captain, I’ve got you” said Memphis.

 

Memphis came streaking from the west with guns screaming like a banshee.  In a horrendous waste of ammunition the Ki became another mark on the scoreboard.

 

“Bombs away” reported Relay, “We have confirmed hits, all heavy tanks except the VII’s have been eliminated.”

 

“Bah!” shouted Regal, “They’re getting me good here.”

 

I rolled the plane.  Regal had four fighters all ganging up on him.  He skillfully dodged the attacks but their relentless assault prevented him from mounting a counter attack.  He was losing a lot of speed and energy without a means to recover.  The remaining three of us desperately tried to jump into the fray but as soon as we turned several Ki’s, zeroes, and the Shiden-kais would engage.  We were trapped like rats.

 

“Break off and retreat!” I ordered, “Head to the bombers!  Relay, where the hell are you?”

 

“South west of your position” he said, “Approximately five minutes.  We’ll have gunners ready.”

 

The Spitfires dove toward the earth.  A few of the Ohka pilots gave chase but quickly broke off when their speed threatened to lock their controls.  Like bats out of hell we sped toward the bombers while Ohka pursued like a swarm of bees.  Half way to our rendezvous four little specs came toward us.

 

“We’re here, Captain” reported Nancy.

 

_They won’t last long._

 

Nancy barked, “Hurricanes, take them head on.  We can’t compete with zeroes to take as many down as you can right now!”

 

_Good lad._

 

The Hurricanes roared passed us with machine guns blazing.  When I looked over my shoulder the formation of Ohka fighters broke away to dodge the concentrated fire.  The Spitfires climbed and did an Immelmann turn to join the conflict.  In an instant the Ki-84s fell on top of the Hurricanes.  Nancy and Betty did their best to stay in the fight, but the planes were slothful compared to Ohka.  Sadly, within seconds of the fight the rookies were knocked out.

 

The Ki-84s were greedy.  Each one of them was vying to get in position behind the Hurricanes for a quick and easy piece of glory.  But as they maneuvered they were forced away from one of their allies who were drifting too close for comfort.  Regal exploited the situation and randomly fired into the swirl.  A Ki-84 burst into black smoke.

 

“Tally ho!” he exclaimed.

 

A stream of fire from a Shiden-Kai slammed into the protective glass of his cockpit.  Regal swore and cursed furiously as he was forced to return to base defeated.  The other pair of N1K’s attacked Memphis from above and below.  Memphis tried to avoid the strike by diving toward the left but it was too late.  A crossfire raked over his plane and black smoke spilled out.  His defeat would be quickly avenged by Piccadilly who shot down the climbing Ohka pilot.

 

“That’s another for me!”

 

“Cut the chatter” I said, “Get defensive!”

 

“Don’t worry we’ve arrived” said Relay.

 

The Lancaster slowly entered the battle with the rookies in the Wellington following close behind.  The Wellington lumbered no more than twenty meters from the leader and slightly above.  I rallied the fighters to draw Ohka to the bombers.  As we drew closer rivers of machine guns washed over us.  And for the first time in a very long time all six of the Lancaster’s turrets were blazing.  Two of the zeroes took the brunt of the fire and aptly defeated.  I could only imagine the anger that was taking over Fuchida.

 

The bomber’s blessing was short-lived.  When the zeroes fell, the Kai’s rose to the occasion.  A panicked shout and scream from the Wellington was all we heard when the engines went black.  Betty and Nancy followed suit, the old planes unable to match the performance of their enemy. 

 

“Miho, how are you holding up?” I asked while dodging bullets.

 

“We’re okay for now.  Leopon got the VII’s but not the flag tank.  We’re containing Earl Grey but we’re taking losses.  We need a bombing run please.”

 

“Tempests you know what to do!” shouted Relay, machine guns blaring in the background.

 

There was no time to think.  It was two fighters and a heavy bomber against the world.  Piccadilly and I buzzed in and out of the Lancaster’s field of fire.  Streams of bullets flew from the bomber like rays of sunlight.  The Shiden-kais rose high into the sky waiting for the subordinates to do the hard work.  The zeroes pulled away and formed a simple triangle formation with the Ki-84s following suit.  The double line of planes turned in perfect synchronisation.  The zeroes fired all their weapons at the Lancaster and used their airframes to protect the Ki-84s.

 

Relay’s crew responded in kind.  Piccadilly and I quickly spun around to take the formation head on.  Small caliber bullets harmlessly glanced of my wings.  The heavier cannon fell beneath me.  In the glorious exchange the entire wing of zeroes had been eliminated.

 

“We’ve lost engine one!” shouted Dipsy, “Engine two!  Three!  Four!  Blast it!  That’s it.  We’re out too.”

 

“It’s up to your wing now, Lucky” said Brooke, “Good luck!”

 

As the Lancaster veered off in a blanket of black Fuchida’s wing fell upon us like hawks.  The odds were horrendously against us, two fighters with minor damage against five.  It would not be easy, but we had to hold out.  Ammo and fuel were running low.

 

“We aren’t going to last long up here, Sugar’s” said Piccadilly.

 

The Ki-84s had jumped on our tails.  We desperately tried to shake them with every trick in the book.  They were like dogs that had sunk their teeth into some fresh meat and they weren’t going to let go.

 

“Damn, we just can’t shake these guys,” I grumbled, “Devil’s Handshake.”

 

“What?!  You can’t be serious!”

 

“I am, and it’s the only way” I said, “On the next pass.  Go!”

 

“God save us.”

 

Piccadilly and I turned toward each other and charged head on.  The Ki-84s were right on our tail with guns blazing.  I held my breath.  The Spitfires bucked their noses toward the heavens and showed each other their bellies.  The great planes careened at each other shaking violently as the air forced it to slow.  The wing tips got dangerously close to each other with no more than a foot between success and tragedy.  I closed my eyes for the split second.  We passed each other without incident.  A breath of relief and astonishment ran over my lips.  The dangerous Ohka fighters had pulled up and began to climb straight into the air.  The Spitfires belched their lethal loads into the rising angels.  Two more for the scoreboard.

 

The victory was short lived as streams of death soared over our exposed frames.  We quickly sped away to shake our foes.

 

“How many are left?”  asked Piccadilly.

 

“Three Kai’s and one, maybe two Ki’s” I said.

 

“Make it just the Kai’s.  Yahoo!”

 

Lucky Lady and Smilin’ Susie appeared from nowhere to strike down the Ki-84 wing.  The tide had turned.

 

“Alright laddie!  Chalk another one up for me!” hollered Susie.

 

“That one was mine,” said Lucky, “But I’ll happily share it with you.”

 

“Bollocks!” shouted Susie, “That was all mine and the camera footage will – ahh!”

 

Fuchida dove on from above and put Smilin’ Susie on to his scorecard.  Following their leader the other two dove at high speeds disregarding the limitations of their aircraft.  The swirling melee had become honorable duels between pilots.

 

“Where’s the others?” I asked.

 

“On their way” strained Lucky dodging a burst, “They have bombs.”

 

_A lot of help that’ll be._

 

“Relay to squadron” his voice broke through the radio, “Be advised all tanks have been knocked out except for Darjeeling and Miho Nishizumi.  I repeat only the flag tanks remain!”

 

“Hell of a way to fly into a war” said Checkmate leading Paulie toward us.  

 

”We will need cover” said Paulie in his monotone voice.

 

Fuchida must’ve gotten the same report because in an instant the Kais broke off from us and assaulted the laden Tempests.  The commanders whipped around as fast as they could and gave chase.  Lucky fired recklessly at the fleeing Kais without regard for distance.  His cannons roared but failed to score a single hit.  Cathie and Paulie fired to defend themselves.  The Kais and Tempests charged each other like bulls.  Fuchida was no fool however.  He began a high Immelmann as soon as the Tempests belched.  He would fall upon them when they passed.

 

“Goddammit!” shouted Cathie, “They got me.”

 

“One Kai down” reported Paulie, “Cover me.”

 

“All fighters form on Paulie!” I ordered, “Miho, where are you?”

 

“We’re right in the centre of the battlefield” she said, “We’re fighting Darjeeling one on one.  Please hurry.”

 

“We’ll be there in two minutes” I said, “Form a box around Paulie.  Shield him with everything you’ve got.”

 

“They’re attacking” said Paulie.

 

Fuchida’s wingman recovered from the head on attack and had turned to engage.  Piccadilly and I turned to attack but we wouldn’t catch up in time.  The Shiden-Kai lined up his shot.  Paulie couldn’t turn and the bombs weighed him down keeping him from fleeing.  The three planes closed in on each other.

 

_Don’t drop the bombs.  Don’t drop the bombs._

 

Lucky screeched by.

 

“You’re fast” he said firing his guns.

 

The shells impacted all over the Kai’s airframe.  The wonderful black smoke followed the sparks and ricochets.

 

“But not as fast as a Tempest” I could feel Lucky’s smirk.

 

_Just Fuchida now._

 

“Captain, let’s go after, Fuchida” said Lucky, “We can finish this right now.”

 

“No” Piccadilly said, “We need to help Miho.  If our flag tank gets knocked out we lose no matter how well the air battle goes, remember?”

 

“Right, right.”

 

Fuchida stayed high in the air watching us.  I didn’t give him any notice.  Our makeshift wing got into very tight formation.  Directly behind Paulie was Lucky to block any shots from behind and to the sides were the Spitfires.  Piccadilly and I rolled our planes to a 45 degree angle to shield as much of him as possible.  The God Wind struck.

 

He was like a lightning bolt.  He fell from the heavens and made quick work of Piccadilly.  But Paulie was safe.  Forty-five seconds to target.  Lucky broke formation and attacked Fuchida.  The Ace of Ohka simply hopped over the assaulting Tempest.  Fuchida did a full flat turn as if he were the needle of a compass.  He fired a small burst as the Tempest passed under his crosshairs.  A grunt of anger and disappointment over the radio was enough to know what happened.

 

“Thirty seconds” reported Paulie, “He is attacking.  Please distract.”

 

“Roger” I quavered. 

 

I forced the Spitfire into a flat half turn and faced Fuchida.  Our two planes glared down each other’s barrels.

_Don’t blink.  Don’t flinch._

 

At one hundred and fifty meters I released a little burst.  The Wind God simply hopped over the stream and zoomed over my head.  I turned as hard as I could but there was no way I could catch him in time. I shouted over the radio.  Paulie began his dive with Fuchida gaining on him.

 

Dust and dirt was being kicked up as Miho swerved her tank around Darjeeling.  The main cannon of the Churchill VII fired rapidly at the medium tank.  Pekoe’s arms must be sore as hell with the rate of fire Assam was pouring out the barrel.  Darjeeling’s driver was skilled as she kept the front armour constantly facing the attack.  Hana’s accurate 75mm shells bounced harmlessly off the thick front armour.  The fight between the armoured monsters was like lighting striking against the mountain.

 

_Ten seconds._

 

Fuchida was far from my reach but relenting wasn’t an option.  I poured as much power as I could into the engines and pushed the Spitfire into a steeper dive.  I was gaining, but I wouldn’t reach in time.  The Shiden-Kai fired.  A thousand rounds swarmed around Peacock like angry bees and crashed against his wings.  Black smoke fumed out of the tail.  The Churchill fired a final shell.  A blinding flash and a booming thunder in a rising cloud of smoke and dirt.

 

“All tanks knocked out” said a mechanical voice as two little white flags shot out of the tanks.

 

_But I have the advantage.  I can win this._

 

Fuchida pulled up from the dive just as I closed into the perfect range.  I pulled hard on the stick.  The crosshairs passed over him.

 

_I have you now._

 

I smirked as I pulled the trigger.  There was only silence.  My thumb pressed the button harder and harder, then faster and faster.  Nothing. 

 

_No, no, no!  Not now!  Crap, and the landing gears are locked too._

 

A jam or all of the ammo was spent it didn’t matter.  Fuchida did a quick turn on a dime and got right on my tail.  I waited for the death rattle.

 

A loud buzz and a mechanical voice, “Time limit reached.”

 

The Wind God pulled alongside me and glared before returning to his airfield.

 

“Objective zones uncaptured” reported the voice, “Flag tanks, inoperative.  AirCom scores, tied.  Both teams prepare for ace match.  Reconvene in two hours.”

 

“Saved by the bell” said Relay.

 

_No shit._

 

“Mechanical team will be waiting,” said Relay, “See you soon, Captain.”

 

_So it all comes down to this._


	18. Chapter 18

Sugar’s Blues hobbled toward the airfield and hopped across the runway before coming to a sudden stop.  Scratches and holes were strewn across the wings and all over the beautiful maiden that graced the fuselage.  By some miracle the plane refused to deploy its smoke and it controls continued to obey my command.  The mechanical team came rushing out with tools and parts in hand, with laminate in buckets.  I grabbed a brush and lent a hand.

 

As we slopped on the clear protective skin, several large trucks rumbled on to the field laden with the Ooarai tanks.  The girls were a little worse for wear with dust and soot covering their faces.  Sweat kissed their brows as exhausted sighs flew over their lips.  Miho and her crew sat atop their Panzer IV.  The shurzen skirts around the turret had been completely blown off and a large black scorch mark sullied the Oorai emblem on the turret beside the crew hatch.  That was the killing blow.

 

Behind the Panzer IV were the members of the Volleyball Club.  Their Type 89 proudly displayed a little scorecard around the turret ring.  A recent addition perhaps inspired by the Bluebirds.  Sadly their tank was beaten nine ways to Sunday.  The tracks were utterly destroyed and their barrel was split like a banana’s peel.  The finishing strike was a grouping of three large dents and burns along the front of the tank.

 

_It’s amazing what a little carbon can do._

 

The other tanks had similar battle damage, destroyed tracks, shattered suspension, and beaten barrels.  It was Earl Grey’s work without a doubt.  I envisioned the speed of her armour as it stormed across the battlefield like cavalry of old.  Miho must be a tactical genius to counter Earl Grey.

 

“You really did a number on this one” said Harry, the mechanical club leader.

 

“But you can get it flying again for the match right?” I said wiping sweat off.

 

“Yeah” he said, “But it won’t be top condition.”

 

“The odds are certainly stacked against you,” said Miho, “But you can do it.  I’m sure.”

 

“I’m not so sure,” said Relay, “If a perfect undamaged Mark IX you have a slim chance.  But in one that damaged, it’ll be a long shot.  A very long shot indeed.”

 

“Then should Lucky go up instead?” asked Miho, “His plane is faster right?”

 

“Faster, but I’m no match for Fuchida” said Lucky, “Looks like we’re between a rock and a hard place.”

 

“What if Sugar’s Blues flies a Tempest instead” suggested Momo.

 

“Planes have quirks, just like tanks” said Lucky, “And without a lot of experience in a certain plane you might as well send a rookie up.  No offense Sugar’s Blues.”

 

“None taken.   He’s right, I’ve only logged about 10 hours in Typhoons.”

 

“Then we’ll have to hope for the best then” said Momo.

 

“Well there is one other option” said Piccadilly.

 

I knew exactly was he was talking about.  The plane that shattered in the sky when I did that stupid Devil’s Handshake.  The plane that cost us the win.  The plane that cost Relay his leg and confined him to isolation in the control tower.  The plane that bears the burden of a horrible memory.  And a name rather I’d soon forget.

 

I sighed in frustrated agreement, “Harry, I need you to roll out S24-777.  Earl Grey.”

 

Harry shouted to his team, “Roll it out boys!”

 

A little tractor rolled out of the hangar dragging old S24-777 hidden under a large grey tarp.  The mechanical team undid the cables and latches.  Harry had the honor of unfurling Earl Grey.  The Mark 24 Spitfire was the epitome of our squadron’s forces.  With the powerful Griffon engine, it was almost as fast as a Tempest.  It was heavily armed with four 20mm Hispano cannons capable of ripping the wings off a plane with a one second burst.  The beauty was painted in shining silver like a knight’s armour.  It’s propeller and nose was black and in the same colour was the aircraft number across the fuselage.  Old RAF roundels were on the wings but my old sigil was nowhere to be seen.  In her place was the darling red haired maiden I had grown to love and beneath her was her name: Sugar’s Blues II.

 

“When did you lot do this?”

 

“It was Miho’s idea actually” said Piccadilly.

 

“How did you… I mean…”

 

“I peeked” she said with an innocent smile, “Back when we were talking in the hangar before the match in Kiel.  But we can talk about that later.  You have a match to win for us.”

 

I strapped on my leather cap and pulled the goggles over my eyes.  With the help of Piccadilly, I was snuggly wrapped by the embrace of the parachute’s straps.  My boots clanked against the metal wings as I clambered into the cockpit.  Harry signalled with his hands and I responded in kind.  The engine roared to life.  The girls and lads shouted good luck over the loud machine.  I was about to take off when someone clattered over the wing.

 

“I’m going to need you to get off the wing, Akebi,” I said, “It’s kind of hard to fly with another person there.”

 

Akebi put a necklace around me.  A familiar ornament decorated my uniform.  A large hook made of wood and white bone polished to a shine where you could see your own reflection. Old symbols were engraved on the bone.  The two materials were melded together and formed into a hook shape.  The hook hung from a string of shells that danced light in their milky interior.  Between the shells were sharks’ teeth.  All the pieces were suspended by a thing black thread.

 

“That shopkeeper said it was good luck” said Akebi.

 

“Thank you,” I smirked, “You know, here in merry old England its customary to wish good luck with a kiss.”

Akebi’s lips drew ever so near.

 

“Don’t push your luck” she whispered.

 

Mid-morning at Dover was a pleasant sight.  And at 3,000 meters it was even more beautiful.  Earl Grey, er, I mean Sugar’s Blues II handled splendidly as if the burdens of two years ago had suddenly disappeared with the wind.  I couldn’t be lax.  As I flew toward the meeting location I bobbed and weaved and scanned the skies relentlessly for Fuchida.

 

_Son of a bitch!_

 

The N1K Shiden-Kai appeared from nowhere and levelled beside me a mere ten or so meters away.  Fuchida’s face was stern and stoic, but I could feel the little twinge of surprise when he saw my new toy.

 

_That’s right.  It’s a level playing field now._

 

I nodded at my rival and held up three fingers.  He shook his head.  Two fingers.  Again he said no.

 

_He’s not going to waste any time._

 

I held up one finger.  (No, not that one.  Shame on you for thinking that.)  He agreed.

 

Three beeps played over the radio and the mechanical voice followed, “Combat begins in three… two… one.”

 

The fighters tore away from each other as fast as their engines could manage.  Our eyes remained fixed on each other.  Fifteen seconds passed and the famous fighters turned hard to face each other.  

 

_His turn is perfect._

 

We charged head on against each other.  My thumb felt around the trigger as he drew closer and closer.  I could’ve ended it then and there but that would be ungentlemanly, unbecoming of a squadron leader, unbecoming of a Bluebird.  We came to within meters of each other as we rolled over and under each other during the pass.  I looked up through the glass of the canopy and saw Fuchida glaring back.  Immediately after the pass I pulled up hard to gain as much altitude as possible before he could circle back around. 

 

I peered over my shoulder and saw an unwelcome guest climbing alongside me.  We soared toward the heavens in a race to see who would stall first.  I growled as we raced the speedometer falling rapidly.  The Spitfire hit 250km/h.

 

_Damn it!_

 

Stalling would do me no good.  I frustratingly pulled out of the climb and flipped over into a dive.  To my surprise and relief, Fuchida was forced to do the same.  I readied my thumb against the trigger.  At the bottom of the dive the duel would truly commence.  The Hispano cannons bellowed against the roar of their Type 99 rival.  Shells rattled off our wings and fuselage, glancing off doing nothing except scratching the paint.  I pushed the throttle as far as it would go making the engine roar.

_I can’t outturn him so I’ll have to out –_

 

A hail of cannon flew over my cockpit.  Fuchida was on my tail.  And close.

 

_God damn it.  How’d he get there?_

 

I had to think quickly, but all I could come up with was bobbing and weaving like a boxer.  It wasn’t much but it kept Fuchida from firing.  Our fuel was limited, ammo more so.  We had to make every shot count.  These cheap rookie tricks wouldn’t last long.  As I bobbed the Spitfire spent its valuable energy while the Kai simply flew straight ahead gaining on my tail.

 

I furiously scanned the skies as my mind raced with a thousand tactics.

 

_There!_

 

Sugar’s Blues II climbed up toward the sun with the Wind God in pursuit.  The white sun filled the cockpit with blinding light like a great tidal wave.  Blinded, I was flying on instinct.  The controls shook from the wind.  There was no rattle or crash.

 

_He’s not shooting._

 

I pressed the pedals and pulled the stick.  The Spitfire performed a tight Immelmann turn then shot straight into a hard dive.  The g-forces pushed me back into the seat hard.  I tensed up my body to resist the rush of blood.  Fuchida blew right passed me still climbing into the blinding sun.  After a shallow left turn Sugar’s Blues II found a moment’s respite in the embrace of a thick white cloud. 

 

I took a deep breath, _Okay, let’s take a peek._

 

Every wary Sugar’s Blues II popped out of the cloud for only a couple of seconds.  I spotted Fuchida above circling like the hawk.  He didn’t move so I didn’t think he spotted me.  The N1K had altitude and the sun on its side.  I had the clouds and limited surprise.  I could flee but that would only squander the few advantages I had.  The situation wasn’t ideal, but I had a trick up my sleeve.

 

I sped out of the clouds levelled and toward the west.  The sun would be behind me, so I couldn’t glance back without being blinded.  That was fine.  The countdown in my head slowly ticked away.  Five, four, three, two, one!  I did a hasty Split S and dodged the assault narrowly.  Fuchida was no fool however and quickly climbed again to get the advantage.  Sugar’s Blues dropped her nose into a dive that was steep enough to gain momentum but enticing to attack.

 

_If you hold, I’ll come back on even terms.  If you chase…_

 

Orange falling stars flew close by but harmlessly.  The Shiden-kai matched my dive almost exactly.  The burst of fire wasn’t meant to hit, but to make me panic.  I kept my cool, so far it was all according to plan.  I gripped the throttle tightly and pulled the stick slightly.  Fuchida was gaining rapidly.

 

_Count to three.  One… two… three!_

 

I cut the throttle completely let down the flaps and pulled hard up against the stick.  The Spitfire flattened out in the sky and shook violently.  My vision turned red and I feared the wings would snap off.  In the red haze I made out a large object fall like a meteor past the nose of the Spitfire.  The nose was forced down, the flaps retracted, and the engine was pushed to its limit.  The initiative was mine now.  Fuchida had no choice but to pull up and climb or level out otherwise risk his plane locking under the high speed winds.  The Hispanos fired a flurry at the Shiden-kai.

 

_Damn he’s fast._

 

I tried to get the perfect lead.  But when the pipper would find the sweet spot, Fuchida would use the rudder to aptly dodge away.  Despite his little maneuvers I stayed on his tail like a wolf chasing a deer.  Fuchida grew tired of this little game of cat and mouse.  His Shiden-kai spurred up into a tight leftward climbing turn.  I pulled hard to follow suit.  The two planes rose and fell as we strained against the turns.  But with every round the Spitfire would drift a little bit wider and wider and wider.

 

I cursed into my mask.  At the bottom of the turn Sugar`s Blues sped away as Fuchida climbed once more.

 

_It`ll be another head on.  Damn it!_

 

By the time I turned to enter another joust, Fuchida was just coming out of his dive.  At this speed scoring a direct hit would be difficult.  The fighters opened fire once more creating a storm of tracer.  The rudder and ailerons and elevator began to stiffen as shots crashed into my plane. 

 

I glared through the crosshairs with my thumb keeping the trigger pressed down.  I couldn`t believe what was happening.  The 20mm rounds kept on missing.  It was like they were drifting ever so slightly to the right out of their own free will.  But that couldn`t be.  At that range with the crosshair lined up right on the centre of his engine and Fuchida flying straight there was no way the shots could drift.

 

Sugar`s Blues was battered and bruised when the joust finished.  And Fuchida was clean as a whistle.

 

_Come on, lassie.  Just hold together for a couple more minutes._

 

“Oh come on!” I complained when I spotted Fuchida on my tail.

 

The Wind God threw burst after burst against me.  I tried to perform the standard maneuvers every rookie is taught but with all the damage I sustained it was near impossible.  To dodge his assaults I jerked the controls as hard as possible and threw the plane into clumsy and reckless aerial tumbles.  With every tumble Sugar Blues would rattle and shake.  I was losing speed.

 

_Come on, just give me one break._

 

Perhaps God was listening.  But I prefer to believe that Fuchida got overconfident.  As I pushed myself out of a hard spin, I spied the Shiden-kai on my left.  It just so happened that the crosshair was about to hit the leading spot.  I sprayed the cannons as the Spitfire spun.  From above I imagine it looked like one of those garden sprinklers.  Fuchida flew through the hail and shook.  The Shiden-kai started to hobble.

 

_Got you good, you bastard._

 

My cocky disposition was quickly washed away.  A few seconds had passed and the Wind God was proven to be mortal, but he was on my tail once again.  At less than 250km/h and at a low altitude those damn tumbles and spins would be far too dangerous.  Even for me.

 

I sighed, _Damn_.

 

There wasn’t much I could do; but calling it quits was out of the question. 

 

“It’s up to you, darling” I whispered to Sugar’s Blues as I completely released the controls.   Sugar’s Blues seemed to do nothing.  The stick didn’t move and the wings didn’t bank.  She just gracefully drifted through the air.

 

_Well, you’ve done your bit._

 

I glanced over my shoulder and saw Fuchida’s cannon’s flash.  The burst was greeted with awe as the round passed harmlessly on my right side.  Another burst, and then another with each one passing harmlessly on my right.  There was no way Fuchida could miss, even if he was limping.  I wondered why but then I felt it.

 

_Good lass._

 

Sugar’s Blues sultry whisper didn’t come from her engine or her guns, or even her wings.  It came from her rudder. There was a subtle push in the pedals that made the plane yaw to the left.  But it was so slight that the movement was invisible to even an Ace’s trained eye.  It was like the fighter was flying straight.  I wanted to bask in the little trick Sugar’s played, but Fuchida had other ideas. 

 

He pulled alongside me.  Bullet holes riddled his wings and punched holes in his personal insignia.  Fuchida removed his goggles and his leather helmet.  I responded in kind.  With hard eyes and a nod the challenge had been issued.  The fighters peeled away from each other, limping as they went.  This would be the final act.  Ten seconds passed and both fighters charged at each other like knights of old.

 

_Left or right?  Left or right?  Which way will you drift?_

 

Five hundred meters, I leaned into the reflective sight.  My vision narrowed so I could only see his little spec grow into a winged beast.  Four hundred meters, my thumb caressed the trigger.  My breathing deepened and quickened.  Three hundred meters, not yet.  Would he drift left or right?  Two hundred, I pressed the pedal slightly, yawing to the right.  One hundred and fifty meters, fire!

 

_Left!,_ I shouted in my head.

 

My sight was filled with red and orange tracer.  The bullets slammed into each plane.  Sparks burst against the thick protective glass of the canopy.  I screamed at the top of my lungs as the plane shook with the rhythm of the guns and the impact of the shells.  Black smoke shrouded my plane.

 

_I got you!_

 

I looked over my shoulder to admire my victory.  To my horror, Sugar’s Blues was puking black smoke.  Disappointment gripped my heart as I turned to return home.  Ahead of me was a peculiar sight, a black cloud.  It wasn’t from my plane, which meant.  Fuchida dropped in and flew with me.  His Shiden-kai was trailing the infamous black.

 

I smirked and opened the canopy.  The fresh British air had a refreshing feeling that I had never felt before.  It was as if an angel had come down to touch my face.  Fuchida did the same and breathed deeply.  I gave Fuchida a nod, held up my right hand and gave him a salute.  Though he did not smile, Fuchida straightened up in his seat and proudly saluted his rival.  Before another gesture of camaraderie could be exchanged the Wind God climbed away to return to his home.

 

“What’s the word?” I asked jumping out of my plane, “Who won?”

 

“We don’t know,” said Miho as she ran with me to the lounge, “They’re still going over the replay.”

 

“Hey, it’s the big damn hero,” said Smilin’ Susie welcoming me with open arms.

 

“Don’t thank him yet,” said Momo, “They haven’t made a decision yet.”

 

The lounge was abuzz with news about the match.  The pilots were exchanging stories with the tankers but every little crack on the radio or blip through the television silenced them immediately.  In a little conversation with Akebi and the volleyball club, I learned what a harrowing position the tanks were in.

 

While the Bluebirds’ bombing mission helped to ease the pressure, the heavy tanks were never a real threat apparently.  In the small hills and knolls and open fields of Dover the medium and light tanks, the speed demons that they were, reigned supreme. 

 

Akebi’s Type 89, Miho’s Panzer IV, and the Rabbit team were the crucible of the mission.  The three of them quickly encircled Darjeeling’s heavy tanks, but their limited firepower made it near impossible to knock out the Churchill tanks.  They did however, force them to turn and expose their thinner sides to the lethal guns of the Tiger and StuG, and to a limited extent the Hetzer.

 

The self-propelled guns were the first to fall.  As Miho lead the first attack Earl Grey had taken her Cromwells around their left and obliterated the assault guns.  The Porsche Tiger loosed several rounds and knocked out a couple of the Cromwells before it too fell.  The rest of the battle was hard to follow, but according to Akebi, Miho devised a strategy to force the Cromwells into a tight formation in order to limit their movement.  It succeeded, clearly, but with heavy losses.

 

“All participants please report to the mustering grounds” said a voice over all media channels.

 

Both teams lined up against each other in the same field we met on in the morning.  Ohka stood proudly at attention with headbands against the wind and stern eyes.  Fuchida’s eyes met with mine but the message he wished to send was lost to me.  Beside the pilots stood the girls of St. Glorianna’s Women’s Academy.  The lot of them were a little dirty from the fight with sweat at their brows but they, as ever, remained the picture of refined and proper ladies.  Darjeeling was at the head of the unit, as was her place, but like before I could not spot Earl Grey.

 

At the command of the judges, the commanders and seconds-in-command stepped forward to receive their verdict, and perhaps the glory of victory.  Of course, the sting of defeat was also ever present.

 

“Ladies, and gentlemen,” said the head judge, “We have reviewed the footage and have come to a decision.  First let me say this was a spectacular match.  The command of the armoured forces was unorthodox but methodical.  The pilots performed with the epitome of skill and honor…”

 

_Ugh, get to the point already._

 

“Now, on to the results,” said the judge, “Please view the main screen.”

 

_Finally!_

 

They played a series of frames.  Seeing it from the outside it was amazing how close we got before breaking off.  They froze the frame at the exact moment a puff of smoke left the tail.

 

“Congratulations.  Ooarai Girls’ Academy and Excalibur Commonwealth Academy wins the match!”

 

A mighty cheer erupted.  The lads and girls immediately broke their decorum, leaped into the air and ran into each other’s arms.  They tossed each other’s hair, gave each other high fives, and generally shared in each other’s jubilation.

 

“Congratulations, Ms. Nishizumi,” said Darjeeling, “And to you Captain Walker.”

 

“Thank you” said Miho with a bow, “It was a good match.”

 

“No my dear,” Darjeeling took a sip of tea, “It was a marvelous match.  I am honored to have finally faced you officially.”

 

“You’re too kind” said Miho.

 

“And you, Sugar’s Blues,” began Darjeeling, “That display of aviation expertise was absolutely exquisite.”

 

“Thanks.  So was your… tankery” I said without actually having seen the ground battle.

 

Darjeeling laughed, “Thank you, though I doubt you saw very much from 3,000 meters in the air.”

 

“Captain Walker!” said a gruff voice.

 

_Just the man I wanted to see._

 

“Mitsuo Fuchida,” I said offering my hand, “That was a damn good fight.  Let’s do it again some time, eh?”

 

Fuchida didn’t say a word.  Stern and stoic Fuchida looked me right in the eyes and he stripped off his headband.  Ohka’s squadron leader bowed his head and offered it to me.  A little stunned and surprised I initially stood there staring at him.  It wasn’t fair though, I couldn’t take that as a trophy.

 

“Hold your head high, mate.  And take this,” I took of my jacket which held the image of my Sugar’s Blues, “You’ve earned it.”

 

Fuchida was just as stunned as I was, but he took the gift graciously.  As I did his.  Apparently we were being watched because as soon as he and I exchanged our presents the pilots of Ohka and Bluebird Squadron met in the middle of the field to do the same.  Even the girls joined in on the action and started exchanging things from little trinkets to their uniform jackets.

 

“You will not defeat us next time,” said Fuchida.

 

I was speechless as I couldn’t tell if he was being friendly or hostile.  But as I was about to ask what he meant, the hard man cracked a smile and winked.


	19. Chapter 19

“I don’t think the little duel with Fuchida should count as a point,” said Regal, “I mean it’s not fair since the rest of us couldn’t get a piece.”

 

“Don’t matter if we count it or not,” said Lilly marking up the scoreboard, “He still beat us.  To the first Ace!  Sugar’s Blues!”

 

“Huzzah!  Huzzah!  Huzzah!” cheered the room.

 

The lounge was filled with people and the sweet, succulent aroma of great food.  The lads and lasses had drinks in hand and were celebrating like they never had before.  The mechanical club was also about in the festivities.  The girls from Ooarai had made this place a second home away from home so to speak.  Miho’s crew were happily ricocheting billiard balls about the table while Piccadilly and I watched.  The strange girls of the Chi-nu were having a little difficulty getting used to all the attention from the lads, but they grinned and bore it.  And dare I say they enjoyed it a little.  Rabbit Team was warmer to the lads, especially the other freshmen who joined the crew.  Heck, even Naughty Nancy was starting to loosen up.  The scoreboard proudly displayed our victories with the tourney’s trophies sitting on the table below.

 

“Now, now let’s not give all the credit to me.  You lot did your bit up there,” I raised my glass, “And the girls of Ooarai!  Without you lassies we wouldn’t be here at all.  Three cheers for the ladies!  Hip-hip!”

 

“Hurrah!  Hip-hip hurrah! Hip-hip hurrah!”

 

“Thank you,” said Miho graciously, “But we couldn’t have done it without you.”

 

“You’re too modest, Miho” said Piccadilly, “And the same to the rest of you girls too.  Come on lads!”

 

With those words the boys hoisted Miho into the air and began a round of ‘She’s a Jolly Good Fellow’.  Miho’s face turned bright red when her friends from Ooarai joined in.  As Miho was being lifted and lightly thrown into the air, a little man pushed his way through the crowd.  He wore a matte blue ling sleeved collared shirt with black buttons.  The grey trousers were kept up by red suspenders and for some reason a brown belt as well.  The tan hat on his head gave it all away though.  For in the band was a piece of paper that had the word ‘PRESS’ written on it.

 

“Ms. Nishizumi, Mr. Walker, can I have a moment of your time,” he asked, “The Academy would like to know –“

 

“Leave the commanders alone, William,” said Ben, “It’s their victory party.  Let them have their fun.  And join in yourself, you’ve earned a break.”

 

The boy put down his pen and notes, “Alright.”

 

“Benjamin!” I grabbed his hand and shook it, “Here to grab the truth are you?”

 

“You’re in a good mood,” He shook my hand with a tight grip, “And no, I’m just here to offer my congratulations.  Of course, congratulations to you as well Ms. Nishizumi.”

 

“Thank you” smiled Miho.

 

I tossed a bottle to Ben, “If you’re here to celebrate then drink deep laddy.”

 

Benjamin tiled the bottle almost upright.  The sweet brown liquid within disappeared into his gullet.   His gasp of satisfaction was welcomed with the small cheers and claps of the partiers.  The party continued with our two new guests. 

 

“Congratulations, Sugar’s Blues” said Akebi as beautiful as ever.

 

“And to you,” I said with a smile, “Here, this belongs to you.  That lucky charm saved my butt up there.”

 

Akebi put on the makau, “Glad it helped.  You were amazing up there.”

 

“I hear you did some amazing things yourself,” My smile got a little smaller, “You know, Akebi, I –“

 

“I know” she said softly, “But I meant what I said.  Sorry.”

 

I sighed, “I understand.”

 

“Hey!  Akebi!  Come over here” hollered Karina at the dart board.

 

Akebi politely excused herself and joined up with her friends.  I made my rounds greeting and talking to all of the pretty ladies.  A dart pricked my shoulder.

 

“Come on, Captain,” said Noriko with a challenging smile, “I hope you’re better at darts than you are at volleyball.”

 

I laughed, “Indeed I am, but I think I’ve got a better challenge for you, Flygirl.”

 

“Oh, yeah?” said Shinobu, “And what’s that?”

 

“Football!” said Smilin’ Susie, “The Bluebirds challenge the Volleyball Club to a game of football!  Right, Captain?”

 

I nodded, “So, what do you say?  Care to show us what the Volleyball Club is made of?”

 

“Bring it on” said Akebi.

 

“If we lose public morals will suffer,” said Sodoko, “We will join as well.”

 

The other girls of Ooarai also wanted to join in as well.

 

“Well, it looks like we’ve got a big game,” I said, “So then, let’s head outside.”

 

Both teams began to file out of the lounge, leaving their jackets strewn about the area.  The two teams hastily set up goal posts and took their positions on the pitch.  Relay walked to the middle of the field holding the football and with Anzu by his side.

 

“And here we go!” cheered Anzu tossing in the ball.

 

“Hold it!”

 

_Bloody hell._

 

Every little piece of revelry was sucked away in an instant.  Strolling on to the field dressed in the prim and proper school uniforms and their flat hair were Billy and Willy of the student council.  I could feel the lads’ eyes piercing through the air at the two of them.  The girls remained polite, but their cold silence was indication of their true feelings.  Except for maybe their student council that seemed ever so slightly warmer, surely they understood Billy and Willy’s position.

 

“Couldn’t this wait until tomorrow?” I complained.

 

President Billy shook his head, “It cannot, we will speak now.  Vice President Willy, the books please.”

 

Willy pulled out a couple of books, “Now for the matter of your expenses and the quota.”

 

“Let’s take this into my office” I said, “Carry on boys and girls.  I shall only be a moment.”

 

“Why bother with the secrets, Mr. Walker?  Surely everyone has had enough of it,” said Billy, “Besides, this matter concerns all here.”

 

I reluctantly conceded.

 

“Now for the matter of your expenses” continued Willy, “Costs have been maintained, not decreased.  This is not good considering everything we had discussed.  On a per person basis, your club is still the highest in expenses without any actual revenue.  And then there’s the quota.”

 

Akebi grabbed my arm to comfort me.  Her sweet eyes knew exactly how I felt, for she had lost her beloved club long before.  My heart sank so deeply I thought I would step on it when I left.  Despite the aching of my heart, my mind knew that this was inevitable.  The tourney had ended and while our ranks swelled, all of us knew the quota was far from reached.

 

“Thirty members” sighed Billy, “So close, yet so far.”

 

I hung my head.

 

“However” said Willy, “Your little stunts in reducing costs have had an effect.  Universal Carrier petrol bills have been reduced to near nil.  Food costs are curbed, and the sale and disposal of books have put a little dent in the books.  And when you consider these factors and apply it on a per capita basis, i.e. your thirty members…”

 

A speck of hope ignited in everyone.

 

I gawked at the student council, “You mean that…”

 

Billy smiled, “Yes, Mr. Walker.  The club will not be cut.  For the year anyway.”

 

The entire pitch cheered.  I ran up to the president and vice president and hugged them so hard I might as well be charged for assault.  Akebi and the volleyball club jumped on me in jubiliation.

 

“Now, now, Mr. Walker,” said Willy, “The club can remain for the year.  You still need to hit quota _and_ control those expenses.”

 

“A few more tourney wins should fix that” I said confidently, “Anyway, how about you join us.  Plenty of food here, and we’re about to start a football match.”

 

Billy raised his hand to decline, “Thank you _Captain_ Walker but the Student Council has much work to be done.”

 

Willy and Billy turned around and began to depart.

 

“Oh and before I forget,” said Billy, “This little party must cost a lot if I dare say.”

 

_Uh-oh._

 

“I think the Student Council should foot the bill entirely.  What do you think, Willy?”

 

“Just this once, President Billy?  I suppose it would be fine.  It is a celebration after all.”

 

“That settles is then.  Congratulations, Bluebirds.  Ooarai.”

 

After I got over the shock of the sudden gifts I rallied the team.  The boys and girls stood around the pitch, tensely waiting for the whistle.  Relay pressed the whistle between his lips.  Anzu walked to the centre of the field.  All the eyes were fixed on the black and white ball.

 

“I’ve got an idea” said Anzu, “Since this was a challenge between Sugar’s Blues and Noriko, how about they do the Anko Dance if their team loses?”

 

“Wait what?!”

 

“TWEET!”

 

Ninety minutes of hard hitting, exhausting running back and forth action kept both teams happily occupied until mid-afternoon.  Both the boys and the girls lay on the grass exhausted and breathing heavily.  I remembered every moment of the match.  Every single kick of the ball, the impacts against my chest and head.  The feel of the grass as I slid to steal the ball.  The goals, I remember the goals most vividly.

 

“How, did,” panted Piccadilly, “we… lose?  At our own game.”

 

“They’re really something else aren’t they?”

 

“Don’t go dozing off now” Anzu stood over me with a devilish smile, “You’ve got to do the Anko Dance.”

 

The music played loudly over the airfield.  The girls sat beneath the shadow of the wings while the lads hung about on the planes themselves.  The pink cocoon of absolute horror and bad taste clung to my skin.  It was tighter than I remembered.  Nervously, I stepped onto the field.  I waited for the song to restart, and then I began.  Cat calls and whistles filled the air.

 

“Put more of your hips into it!” instructed Momo.

 

“Do your best, Sugar’s” said Miho, “It’s only embarrassing if you think it is.”

 

“Hey Captain!” shouted Smilin’ Susie, “Don’t look know, but the press is taking a video.”

 

“Don’t worry,” said Memphis, “You’ll just have to keep your face covered when you go to school from now on.  Ha! Ha! Ha!”

 

“Huh, I don’t remember that move being part of the dance” said Yuzu.

 

“Or that one either” said Anzu.

 

“Stop destroying the Anko Dance!” scolded Momo.

 

“Man, he sure looks like he’s having fun” said Piccadilly.

 

“But it’s the Anko Dance!  He’ll never get a girlfriend now,” said Saori, “But you’re right.  He does look like he’s having fun.”

 

Hana tilted her head, “It’s like he’s rearranging the moves, but that can’t be because it’s still the same.”

 

Lucky’s foot started to tap, “That’s it!  I’m joining in too!”

 

“What?! Why?!”

 

“It looks fun.  It might even be the next dance craze” he said throwing off his jacket.

 

“I’m going to” said Yukari, “Yahoo!”

 

“Let’s a go!” hollered the Rabbit Team.

 

“Come on boys, don’t get left behind now” said Relay limping to the fun.

 

Slowly but surely everyone walked onto the field and joined in.

 

“And that’s the story lads,” I said with proud satisfaction, “That’s how we became Bluebirds, broke a five year losing streak, kept our club, and how the Anko Dance became the biggest thing since sliced bread.  Now, any questions?  You there!  Rookie!”

 

The lad lowered his hand, “Ummm…. Are you going to teach us to fly any time soon?”


	20. Epilogue

The sun set against the cold waves of the Atlantic.  Dover’s White Cliffs shined in the orange glow.  A cool breeze swept over the land making the flowers sway as if greeting passersby.  The skies above were clear of cloud and bird.  The blue velvet was darkening as the sun took its bow.  A silhouette stood atop the cliffs looking over the Channel .  A sweet voice started to dance in the wind.

_“There’ll be bluebirds over the White Cliffs of Dover…”_ the silhouette sang.

 

“So my wish finally came true” said a man’s voice.

 

The silhouette turned to face him.  She had a soft face with a kind smile.  Though her eyes were grey, they sparkled and shimmered like silver diamonds.  Her straight, long, golden hair was unrestrained as it blew in the wind.  The school day had ended long ago, but she still wore the uniform.  The dark blue sweater, white collared shirt and black tie protected her bosom.  Her legs were kept warm by a pair of black leggings and a lighter blue skirt.  Embossed on the sleeve was her school’s sigil: a teapot and cup on a shield of light blue with a cloud on the upper right quadrant and roses on the upper left.  Above the shield were the initials STGGC.

 

“It has been a long time, Earl Grey” said the man.

 

“Yes, it has.  Hasn’t it, Johnny Walker,” Earl Grey said with a tone known only to them.

 

Johnny Walker ran his hand through his short, black hair.  The tall fit man walked toward her.  His brown eyes looked at the ground before meeting Earl Grey’s.  His familiar smirk disappeared behind a serious demeanor.  The thick leather jacket had three unique emblems: one belonged to his academy, the other to his squadron.  And the final one was the largest, the image of Sugar’s Blues.  Beneath the jacket was the uniform black shirt and red tie.  His khaki pants were creased and clean matching his polished brown shoes.

 

“I haven’t forgiven you” said Earl Grey turning away.

 

“I know” he replied sadly.

 

“But, I do miss you.”

 

“I know.”

 

Earl Grey faced him and sighed, “Don’t you have anything to say?  This is the first time we’ve seen each other in a very long time and all you can muster is ‘I know’?”

 

“You could have said hello before and after the match,” said Johnny, “Why didn’t you?”

 

“I… I couldn’t find the words” she said honestly.

 

A small smile cracked on his face, “The same with me, right now.”

 

“I wonder what Darjeeling would say?” asked Earl Grey, “Perhaps a quote from Hemmingway?”

 

“The shortest answer is doing the thing” quoted Johnny, “Would that work?”

 

Earl Grey laughed softly, “I know what you’re trying to do.  As much as I want to, I can’t kiss you.”

 

Johnny laughed, “Well you can’t blame a guy for trying.”

 

The wind picked up.  The waves crashed against the shore in a white spray.  The two of them stood close to each other, gazing into each other’s eyes.

 

“I’ve found the words” whispered Earl Grey.

 

“I still haven’t” admitted Johnny, “I’m sorry.”

 

“We’re here, the place where we have met so many times before.  The sun is setting and you’ve heard me sing,” A twinge of anger came over her, “The scene can’t be more perfect and you _still_ can’t find the words?  How many do you need?”

 

“Just three,” he said.

 

“Three little words,” said Earl Grey, “I know.  She said the same to me.  Farewell, Johnny.  If you ever find the words come look for me.  Though I doubt you’ll ever find those words.”

 

“Wait,” Johnny grabbed Earl Grey’s arm, “I’ve found them.”

 

“Say them” she said waiting for the words she wanted to hear for so long.


End file.
